Super Hero
by cell12
Summary: Set when the boys are in their early teens. Cartman has to contend with neglect at home, friends who don't care and newly developing superpowers. Not as lame as it sounds - the superpowers are explained using real SP universe back-story. Mild Kyman.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 1**

Monday - The Genius

It was a typical Monday morning in South Park. After a pleasant weekend of sitting in front of the television, Eric Cartman was not pleased to be woken up by his alarm but he knew better than to lounge in bed.

Like most boys his age, he had calculated to the last second, exactly, how long it took to get up on a morning and had set his alarm to give him just that amount of time. Trailing up and down the stairs was stupid so he always showered and dressed before coming down to breakfast. It had become one of his least favourite meals of the day. As usual, his mom was out - she'd been out all night - so his breakfast choices were between cold cereal and something zapped in the microwave. Disgusted with both options, he tore open a box of cereal bars and crammed two into his pocket - he would eat them later. Next he changed Mr Kitty's water and opened a tin of cat food - if he left it for him mom to do, poor Mr Kitty would starve. Before leaving Eric checked his jacket pocket for his wallet and made sure he had enough money for lunch. Noting that he was low on cash, he ran upstairs to his mom's bedroom.

Cartman hated going into his mom's bedroom, it had an odour that turned his stomach. Try not to imagine the smell of cheap weed and mouldy sperm, badly masked by a liberal spraying with perfume. The sort of smell you could taste on your lips and remember in your nightmares. Eric hurriedly pulled open the drawer in the dressing table where his mom kept some cash. Bravely trying to ignore the crack-pipe and unopened syringes - still in their sterile plastic bags - Cartman reached for the box where the money was kept. Inside was a measly 130 dollars - barely enough to see them through the week. Eric sighed, he would have to use his savings to pay the bills and grocery's - again. Why couldn't his mom be more normal and not such a useless drug-addled whore?

Not wanting to be late, Cartman grabbed the cash and quickly left his house - he had stopped thinking of it as his home years ago. Now he was running late and would have to hurry to catch the school bus.

* * *

><p>Stan, Kyle and Kenny were already at the bus stop when he arrived, slightly out of breath. Kenny, at least, had the sense to not engage him in conversation on a morning - Kyle on the other hand...<p>

"You're late Fat-ass," Eric calmly noted that Kyle was being his usual, bitchy self, "what would you do if you missed the bus. There's no way you could walk that far with all that blubber."

Apparently Kyle had not noticed that Eric's clothes fit him a lot looser than just a year before. The only reason why Cartman still wore them was because he couldn't afford to replace them.

"Thank you for your insight, Kahl," Eric had learned years ago that the more polite and calm he stayed while arguing with Kyle, the more he pissed off the Jewish boy. "It's reassuring to know that somebody can't take their eyes off my hot body."

Kenny chuckled under his parker.

"Dude," Stan chipped in, "you know Kyle's not like that."

"Well, not for you anyway," Eric couldn't help himself, he had to out-insult anyone he argued with.

Just then the bus pulled up and Stan and Kyle climbed aboard with Cartman and Kenny not far behind. In a hurry to sit down, Cartman tried to push past the other two boys to get in front of them and Kyle stuck his foot out, just enough to send Eric to the floor.

Eric pulled himself onto his knees - the laughter he heard made him feel as embarrassed and he was furious, "You did that on purpose you worthless kike."

Kyle, Stan and Kenny just laughed as they pushed past the Fat-ass and claimed their seats.

Just as Cartman regained his feet he was startled by the shrill bellow of the bus driver, "Sit down and shut up!"

"I think the bitch has got her dildos in the wrong way round today," Cartman muttered under his breath as he retreated to the back of the bus, "you're supposed to put the eight inch up your cunt and the six inch up your ass."

"What did you say!" The vile woman shrieked.

Cartman thought quickly, "I said that I give piano lessons after school, in the music room, so I've got a special hall pass."

The woman just nodded and returned her attention to the road, Eric hurried to get to his seat. Cartman pointedly ignored a greeting from Butters as he made his way to the back of the bus, as expected, his seat was waiting for him.

* * *

><p>Cartman had got fed up with all the shit that went with choosing where to sit on the bus, so he chose his seat - in the centre, at he back - he had informed everyone who rode the bus of his choice. The next day Kyle was in his seat, so he sat on him - only getting up when Kyle promised to move. The following day Kyle was in his seat again, but this time with a gleam in his beedy Jewish eyes. Eric knew that Kyle had a plan but he had thought one move ahead. Expecting something pointy, like a pencil or a compass, Cartman had taken the time to slip a protective pad under his jeans. "Comfortable Fat-ass?" Kyle had asked after Eric had sat on him. "Not yet," he had replied before wriggling about and letting off a huge fart - a supper of broccoli and beans the night before had made sure it was nice and stinky. After that, everyone had steered clear from Cartman's rightful spot - it just wasn't worth it.<p>

* * *

><p>Remembering that incident had brightened Cartman's mood somewhat and he decided that he was hungry. As he took the cereal bars out of his pocket he could feel the eyes of his, so called, friends upon him. He knew what they were thinking - the Fat-ass is having snacks on top of his breakfast while poor Kenny has nothing. Did they even consider the fact that these bars were his breakfast, no they just saw his large shape.<p>

Desperate to avoid another lecture from Kyle he handed one of the bars over to Kenny, "Here," was all he said.

Kenny quickly opened the bar and started eating. By the way he was relishing every bite, Eric could tell that Kenny hadn't had much to eat all weekend. The fact the the poor boy was beyond feeling ashamed for taking charity from his friends told Cartman all he needed to know. He looked down at the other cereal bar, swallowed his own hunger pangs and pushed it towards Kenny.

"Take it before I change my mind," he didn't even look, he just felt the bar slide out of his hand.

"Thanks dude," Kenny said, muffled by his coat.

Ignoring the questioning looks been sent his way, Eric drifted off into a half slumber. Sometimes the oblivion of sleep was the only time he came close to being happy - of course at other times he had the nightmares.

* * *

><p>Cartman drifted through the morning in a half-daze. His friends had become used to it and usually led him to his classes. For the last couple of years he had been suffering from, what the doctor called, migraines - terrible head-aches that left him feeling like shit. Apparently it was an after-effect of all the head traumas he had received. Sometimes Eric saw sparks of intense colour and light and his head felt like it would explode. At other times it was like the world was closing in around him.<p>

Unfortunately Eric came out of his daze just before math class. Not his favourite subject and Garrison had decided that today would be a good day for a quiz.

While the tests were handed out Cartman stole a glance at his friends. Kyle was smiling confidently, he had probably studied really hard - like the nerdy Jew that he was. Stan looked reasonably confident as well - Eric assumed that he had gone over the work with Kyle last night. Kenny was flirting with Red and she was nodding - Cartman guessed that she was going to let Kenny copy her answers.

Mr Garrison returned to the front and sat down before giving them permission to begin. Cartman turned over the paper and looked down at the math test in front of him. How, the hell, was he supposed to know any of these answers. Garrison spent all his teaching time rattling on about his favourite soaps and other such meaningless shit. The only question Eric knew he could answer was the one that asked for his name.

Early in his school career Cartman had realised that he was expected to know and remember all sorts of things that were completely pointless and meaningless - all sorts of things that he had no interest in ever learning. He had also found that he could easily get the answers off other pupils in the class. Unfortunately, as he got older the other kids became less inclined to help him and he'd been forced to resort to other means. Homework was rarely a problem, both Kyle and Butters regularly supplied him with the right answers - willingly or unwillingly - Stan was usually willing to let him copy his work, he'd even resorted to copying off Kenny on occasion. Project work was even easier, he just let the person or persons he was working with do all the work.

The main difficulty in Cartman's cheating lifestyle was tests and pop quizzes but he had developed skills to allow for cheating - even in these difficult circumstances. His main skill was his ability to read handwriting from any direction at a glance. Unfortunately for Cartman his classmates had found out about his devious, cheating skills - in no small part thanks to a certain Jewish boy's mouth - and so, for the last few tests, Eric had found hands and turned-over papers where once he had found answers.

As Cartman brooded on how unfair everything was he drifted in a relaxed daze, he figured that he would just write anything and hope for the best. He looked down at his paper. It was filled in, completed, in his hand-writing. Eric remembered picking up his pencil and writing his name in the box but after that he had just, sort of, drifted off. Well, right or wrong, they were answers. He may as well hand the damn thing in.

Cartman raised his hand up and spoke, "I've finished Mr Garrison."

All at once every pair of eyes in the room were fixed on the fat boy - some with envy that he had finished before them but most with disgust, they assumed he had found some new way to cheat.

"Bring your paper up here so that I can see it, Eric," Garrison said.

Eric approached the front and handed his teacher the paper. Garrison grabbed the sheet and started checking the answers against the back of his answer book. His jaw dropped - the fat little bastard had gotten every question right.

"Eric," the teacher asked, "did you copy off Kyle?"

"How could I have copied off the Jew? he hasn't even finished yet," Cartman was indignant so he spoke without thinking, "and I can see from here that he's got four wrong answers."

Kyle had heard the Fat-asses comments and was about to make an angry retort when Garrison spoke first, "Eric, there is no way you can read Kyle's paper from where you're standing and the only way you could possibly know that his answers are wrong is if you know that yours are definitely right. The only way you can know that is if you're a genius," Garrison's voice was mocking at this point, "or you've, somehow, gotten hold of the answers."

Cartman looked his teacher in the eyes, "I haven't cheated."

"Well there's an easy way to prove that, isn't there," Garrison's voice sounded smug.

At this point Eric was getting nervous. How, the fuck, had he managed to get all those questions right? How had he been able to read Kyle's paper at this distance? And how had he known that Kyle had four wrong answers?

"Here we go," Garrison had produced a text book out of the locked drawer in his desk. It was a text book on math. He opened the book and flicked through a few pages until he came to a page of problems. "See if you can answer these, genius."

Cartman looked at the sums on the page. With a single glance all the answers came flooding into his head. The numbers and the symbols span around in his mind. He didn't just know the answers, he understood how the math could be related to engineering and science.

"I'm waiting, Eric," Garrison snapped Cartman out of his daze.

Cartman lowered his head, he knew the answers to the questions. They were easy for him. He also knew that they were very advanced math problems, probably for college students. There was no way he wanted anyone to find out that he could answer questions like that. The bare minimum would be that he suddenly got a reputation as a nerd, like Kyle - he shuddered at the thought. Even worse would be if anyone started asking questions - like how could a borderline C/D student, known for been lazy, suddenly start answering advanced math problems?

"You were right Mr Garrison," he spoke quietly, "My mom bought me a teachers copy of the text book and I memorised the answers."

"Well Eric," Garrison revelled in his victory over the the child, "you've just earned yourself a weeks detention, but I'm glad you told the truth. You'll have to take a make-up test and I'm sure that Mr Mackey will want to have a word with you about your cheating." He wrote out a note and handed it to the boy, "Take this to his office straight away."

Cartman gratefully accepted the note and fled the classroom.

* * *

><p>Of course Kyle couldn't wait to taunt Cartman about the math test.<p>

"What did Mackey say about your cheating?" Kyle asked.

The walk home from school was usually Eric's favourite part of the day. He could switch off and finally relax, but that wasn't happening today. Kyle had decided to skip the bus and wait to walk home with Stan - who had football practice. Well that was what he claimed, anyway. In reality he had waited behind so that he could taunt Eric all the way home.

Eric decided it was easier to just answer Kyle, "He gave me a lecture on cheating, how I was really cheating myself out of an education - or some such shit."

Kyle looked smug, "And?"

Eric lowered his head, "Five, one hour detentions."

"A weeks worth," Eric felt like wiping the grin off of Kyle's face, "but you know that you deserve it."

"Not a weeks worth Kahl," Cartman informed Kyle, "it will be spread over two weeks to allow for my after-school activities." Eric hadn't been lying when he had said he taught piano to the bus driver that morning. It was a way to make money that wasn't too strenuous, money he needed because his mom was such a worthless crack whore. His friends cared so little about him that they probably didn't even know.

"You don't have any after-school activities, Fat-ass," Kyle shouted at him.

Eric raised an eyebrow - he had called it right, they didn't give a shit about him and probably never had, "Kahl, I've been teaching piano after school and on weekends for two years."

"No you haven't," Kyle argued.

Stan shook his head, he knew that Cartman did something after school because they walked home together twice a week. He had never cared to ask what and had told himself that he was respecting his friend's privacy. He wondered now if maybe he should have asked.

Cartman turned to Stan, "Stan, tell him."

"We walk home together twice a week after football practice," Kyle looked mortified - like Stan had been keeping a big secret from him, "I just thought that he was in a club at school."

Cartman looked at Kyle with an I-told-you-so look on his face.

"Why would you help anyone with anything, Fat-ass," Kyle sneered, "you only care about yourself."

"I get paid," Eric responded, "we don't all have rich parents."

Kyle felt the venom in that remark - Cartman was right, money was never really a problem for him - but there was no way he would let Cartman win, "You need qualifications to teach."

"You forget Kahl," Cartman smiled, "I'm a fully licensed teacher with a proper teaching certificate and everything."

Kyle vaguely recalled Cartman's time teaching high school in Denver and cursed under his breath. Not that he was about to give up, "You're such an ass, no kid would want you as a teacher."

"Your brother seems to like me."

Kyle knew that his brother had been getting piano lessons and was always proud to show off what he had learnt in front of his parents. He even remembered Ike saying how much he liked his piano teacher. It couldn't be Cartman, could it?

"You're Ike's piano teacher," he asked half-stunned.

"Don't sound so surprised Kahl," Cartman felt like he needed to justify his teaching abilities, "I do a good job. I try to make the lessons fun."

"Why didn't I know about this?"

Eric had a lot of crap to deal with in his life and he never got to unload the stress. Kyle's prodding and prying had opened Cartman up and he was ready to vent, "You're so tucked away in your own world that you don't have time for anything else, or anyone else for that matter! All you care about is your life and your problems! Do you even care about other people?"

"I care about my friends," Kyle countered, "I just don't count you amongst them."

"No, of course you don't. I'm just the guy who has saved your life a bunch of times and who's kidney is keeping you alive as we speak." Cartman slammed his fist into the wall they were walking past. Sparks of electricity moved across his fingers and jumped in tiny arcs. "What the shit," he thought before cramming his hand into his pocket.

"What was that," Stan asked.

"What?" said Kyle who hadn't seen anything.

"I just thought I saw a flash of something by Cartman's hand," Stan demonstrated his point by gesturing towards the hand in Cartman's pocket.

"It was nothing, hippy," Cartman turned to go into town rather than the way home, "I've got shit to do so I'll see you tomorrow." This was directed at Stan as he deliberately ignored Kyle.

"Yeh, see ya Fat-ass," Stan said to the retreating back of the larger boy.

Kyle turned to look at his best friend, "So what else has Cartman been up to that I don't know about?"

Stan looked at Kyle's jealous face - why did Kyle have to get so obsessive about Cartman, "Look," he said, "I don't know a lot, just what he's told me when we walk home. From what I can gather his mom isn't there a lot and when she is she's either screwing some guy or off her face on drugs."

Kyle's face blanched. Did Cartman really have it so bad?

Stan continued, "Kenny told me that Cartman pays the bills but I didn't really think about it until today."

"You mean he's been using his teaching money to support himself," Kyle was shocked.

Stan stopped and turned to his friend, "You didn't hear this from me."

"Should we try to help him," Kyle asked, "maybe my mom..."

Stan cut him off, "Cartman hates your mom and all the authorities would do is put him in a children's home. Anyway you know how independent he likes to appear."

"I have to do something."

"Let him rant at you when he needs to," Stan smiled, "you're good at that."

Kyle nodded.

The two friends walked the rest of the way home in silence.

* * *

><p>Eric Cartman couldn't believe what was happening to him, not that he knew what was happening anyway. First the inteligence - he had always considered himself smart, just not book-smart. Now he seemed to be generating electricity.<p>

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, the sparks had gone away but when he concentrated they came back. Looking around, he noticed that there was no-one about. He ducked into an alleyway and held out his hand. As he focused the sparks grew larger and started to merge into each other. A sphere of electrical energy was forming inches above the palm of his hand. Eric stared for a second before instinctivly flicking his wrist in a throwing motion, ball lightning he thought as it hit a streetlight - making it turn on briefly before overloading it.

The noise snapped Cartman out of his contemplation and he realised that he had to go somewhere quiet to think about this. There was no way he could be around people if he didn't have this thing under control. He knew he had to keep this a secret, even from his friends. If the government found out, well, he didn't think they would have any problems with kidnapping and disecting a child. Knowing that there was nobody in the whole world he could trust was not a new feeling for Eric Cartman but the fact that his new-found powers would make him a massive target was.

Eric realised that he had been running for some time and wasn't winded, in fact he wasn't even breathing heavily. He knew that he had dropped some weight, mainly due to his mothers inattention and lack of money over the last few years, but he also knew that he was pretty unfit. There was no way that he would, under normal circumstances, be able to run like this.

Cartman looked around and noticed that he was almost home, he also saw Stan and Kyle - just ahead of him. He slowed to a walk, the last thing he needed right now was having to deal with those two ass-holes.

Unfortunately what Cartman didn't see was his third friend, Kenny. Kenny had seen Cartman running and couldn't believe that the Fat-ass was so fast. He also knew that Cartman didn't have a teachers copy of the text book and had wanted to know how Eric had really cheated on the math test. Something was going on and Kenny wanted to know just what it was.

* * *

><p>Eric knew, the second he entered the house, that his mother hadn't been home at all. Not because everything was exactly as he had left it but because there was no smell. The odour that Eric had come to associate with his mom - a vile combination of cheap perfume, sex and drug sweat. Of the three Eric hated the drug sweat the most. In the same way as a person who eats too much garlic starts sweating a garlic odour - Liane Cartman's sweat smelled of drugs. It was sickening and it lingered for hours in any room she occupied. Of all the things his mother did, it was the excessive drinking and drug taking that bothered Eric the most. He could see that his mother was on a spiral of dangerous self-destruction, he just couldn't do anything about it.<p>

Eric locked the front door behind him. His mother had her key and if she was too addled to use it, she was not opposed to banging on the door at any time of night to get Eric to let her in. The shame he felt when she would pushpast him with some guy who she'd picked up was overwelming at times, but Eric had learned to be polite and hold his tounge. Sometimes it just wasn't worth it.

Eric wanted to get his homework done first. Normally it was something he ignored until the last minute, until he had to copy off Butters or the Jew - but today was different, today he was a genius. He opened his history book and looked at the homework sheet he had folded up inside. The questions were easy but he wasn't going to make the same mistake as he had with the math test. It was surprisingly hard to deliberately spell words wrong and even harder to get answers wrong when you know the right answer. He couldn't just write anything he had to base his wrong answers in relation to the questions - you couldn't just answer Santa Claus to the question, who was the eighteenth president of the United States. Even so Eric completed all his homework in less than twenty minutes.

Cartman wanted to just forget about the weird things happening to him for a while and focus on his dinner. He cursed himself for forgetting to go to the market after school, remembering that he still had to go to the bank as well. A couple of months ago he'd set up direct payments on his secret bank account, that way he could be confident that all the essential bills were paid. He suplimented the drain on his savings by depositing any money that his mother left around the house, except what he needed for groceries, into his account.

He called it his secret bank account but in reality the only person it was secret from was his mother. When he had first started earning money, he had been so proud of himself and had saved the cash in a box he kept in his underwear draw. After a few months he had built up a nice amount, nearly 500 dollars. Sadly, one afternoon, he had come home from school and checked his box only to find the money gone. He didn't see his mom for a couple of days and when she did finally return she crashed out on the floor - off her face on drugs. It was then that Eric had started hating his mother, yes he'd said it before but it had only been hurtful words until that moment. It had taken anouther couple of years for him to stop hating her - now he just didn't care.

Eric resigned himself to a frozen TV dinner, the portions weren't generous and they had way too many additives and salt but they were hot and relatively tasty. As a once-in-a-while meal they were tollerable, as an every day meal they were sickening. Eric had been eating a regular diet of microwave meals for more than eighteen months. The gloopiness and poor quality ingredients was really getting to him.

Eric grabbed the box out of the freezer and readied it for the microwave. By now he knew all the different instructions for each meal by heart. He set the timer and started the food cooking. As the microwave buzzed and whirred, Eric studied the appliance - it was on its last legs, like a lot of things in the house. When the vacuum had broken down two months ago, he had cursed on seeing the price for a replacement. Small items he could, just about, afford to replace but if something big, like the fridge-freezer, broke - he would be completely screwed over.

The ping of the microwave snapped him out of his thoughts and he grabbed the meal, along with a fork, and carried them into the living room. Maybe if he could veg out in front of the TV for a couple of hours, give himself some time to get his head around what was happening to him. Maybe then he could figure some things out.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours watching mindless crap was all Eric could stand and he switched the set off. He contemplated doing some housework but decided against it, that sort of crap was usually left until the weekend. He wasn't an early-to-bed person but the idea of a few hours of oblivion sounded good to him.<p>

Cartman always felt safer in his room. One of the first things he had purchased with his tutoring money was a lock for his bedroom. As as a young child he had regularly been woken up by a drunken pick-up of his mothers looking for the bathroom. Then there was the parties that his mother liked to have. He would be packed off to some other kids house for a 'sleep-over' while his mom enjoyed an all-weekend orgy. The idea that those people were using his room made him physically sick. A new matress and bedding had been essential as soon as he could afford it.

As Eric settled into his bed he wondered about whether he would get a full nights sleep without interuptions. He had come to perfer the times his mother stayed away from the house for days on end.

* * *

><p><em>"Will he remember any of this?"<em>

_"Not at first, but as the nano-borgs work on enhancing his mind, he'll remember it later."_

_"Professor Arryx, I can understand why we revived the boy - the alien technology that was implanted inside him is a treasure trove. I can even understand why we cloned him a new kidney to replace the one that he's missing - it's a normal medical procedure that we would do for any of our citizens. But why are we implanting these nano-borgs in him?"_

_"We were unable to remove all the alien tech, he also has some circuitry embedded in the base of his skull, giving him access to latent electricity absorbsion and redirection powers. Add to that there are parts from an ancient piece of tech called a trapper-keeper inside him."_

_"So the nano-borgs are going to dismantle and remove all the remaining tech inside him?"_

_"There not just doing that, Jarko, the tech that already exists in his body is going to be put to good use, enhanced and updated. Along-side that, our nano-borgs are going to re-write his DNA - making him stronger, smarter, faster and more resiliant. The bilogical upgrades will work in tandom with the tech making him near-unbeatable with amazing powers."_

_"By science, what's the point of that?"_

_"You don't get it do you? Our world was used and abused by numorous different alien forces for centurys - humans used for entertainment, medical experiments and sport. It all came to a head just a few years after this boy's time. Our planet was stipped of most of it's resorces and our people captured and sold as slaves through-out the galaxy. Because of AU theary we know that we can't change what happened to our ancestors but, what if we could send someone who belongs to that time period back to write those wrongs."_

_"If he changes the past won't we cease to exist?"_

_"Possibly."_

_"And if we don't exist, who revives the boy and puts with all this technology into him?"_

_"I understand what you're saying but, when we send him back, his very presence will create an alternate universe. Hopefully one with a better future for mankind."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Note:<strong> I've been finding it hard to decide which one, of two multi-chapter stories, to work on next. I find it easier to focus on one story at a time - but which to chose?_

_ I've decided that the easiest thing to do is let the reviewers decide. I've typed up the first chapter of each of the two stories and have posted them both at the same time with this authors note. This is strictly down to review numbers - so review your favourite, or the one you hate the least. I think a good cut-off for this is the end of March 2011 - reviews after that date won't be counted._

_The original plan was to post the two stories up a couple of weeks ago. Sadly this hasn't happened because I was unable to post up any new stories. **The new deadline is April 15th.**  
><em>

_** Leaving** will have shorter chapters but will be updated more often - I'll try for one a week or more._

_** Super Hero** has much longer chapters - so obviously they will take that much longer to write._

_ Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 2**

**Tuesday - Maestro**

Eric woke up to the sound of his alarm, his dream from the night before still fixed in his mind. Could the dream be his memories? He remembered, stupidly, freezing himself when he was nine - he was revived in the future and saved the world before being sent back. Sadly, no-one ever believed him about his adventures so he had stopped talking about them. Sometimes he wished he had stayed in the future, there was nothing for him in this world. No joy or happiness, no close family or anyone who truly cared about him - he was alone and sometimes the loneliness was overwhelming.

While in the bathroom, taking his shower, he noticed that his body had been changing. It looked so different from what he was seeing in the mirror just a few weeks ago. Someone who didn't know him would think he was a sports obsessed jock, like Stan. The only difference was that he still had the remains of a belly and his muscles were bigger.

The idea that humans from the future had upgraded his DNA and sent him back in time to protect the Earth from numerous alien menaces, was a lot to get his head around. Cartman liked being the hero - but only so he could rub it in his friend's faces. When he was younger, he had played at being a superhero - dressing up as the Coon and running around the town at night. This was different, on a much larger scale and it scared him.

Eric shook himself - no, he was Cartman, nothing bothered him. If the world had to be protected from aliens, of course, he was the one who would be chosen to do it. And if, in the meantime, he used his powers to improve his crappy life well - he deserved some sort of reward, didn't he.

Satisfied with his answers, Eric hurriedly finished his shower and dressed before going downstairs. He'd had to use the tightest notch on his belt to cinch in his trousers, he would have to get himself some new clothes at the weekend. The last thing he needed was for his pants to slide off him while he was at school.

As he fixed his breakfast, Cartman vaguely noted that his mother still hadn't turned up. It wasn't that unusual for him not to see her for days at a time. It happened so often that he didn't even bother to wonder where she was and what she was up to. As long as she stayed around long enough for him to finish school - after that, he wouldn't care if he never saw her again.

* * *

><p>"Hey genius, looking forward to detention?" Kyle greeted Cartman in his usual caring way.<p>

"Drop dead Jew," Cartman responded automatically. He was still brooding on his dream from the night before and whether it was real or not. He was inclined to believe it was real, if only because it made sense and explained things.

"I asked Ike about you," Kyle said - still looking to start something.

Eric looked over at Kyle - was the Jew trying to rip on him some more or was he wanting a genuine conversation, "So?"

"You are his piano teacher," Kyle still sounded like he didn't quite believe it.

"Is that an apology Kahl?"

"No," Kyle answered, "I have nothing to apologise for."

"You accuse me of lying, to my face. Then when ah prove the truth to you, you accuse me of doing a crappy job." Cartman really wasn't in the mood for an argument with Kyle today, "Ah think that either of those things would warrant an apology."

"Who's to say how good a job you're doing," Kyle argued stubbornly.

"Didn't Ike say ah was a good teacher?" Cartman asked

"He said that he liked you as his teacher," Kyle conceded, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that you're doing a good job."

Cartman gritted his teeth, trying not to be too pissed off with Kyle's words, "If you're so interested in how good a piano teacher ah am, then you should sit in today when ah give Ike his next lesson."

Kyle nodded like he was accepting a challenge, "When and where, fat-ass?"

"Music room three, after class," Eric answered, not looking Kyle's way, "and no trying to interfere with my lesson or interrupt it just so you can win."

Kyle scowled, rather than answer - before nodding.

Stan arrived then at the stop, with Wendy in tow. She had started using the boys stop, every now and again, so she could spend more time with Stan on a morning. Personally, Cartman thought it was so she could keep track of him. We used to all make plans for meeting up while standing at the bus stop and now we couldn't - so Wendy was able to monopolise more of his free time. Needy bitch, the last thing Stan wanted was an argument - so he just kept his head down and agreed with whatever was happening. Eric could tell that her constant presence was pissing Kyle off too - cutting into his super-best-friends time. For Cartman that was the only benefit of her being around. To piss Kyle off more, he always went out of his way to greet Wendy warmly - despite his own feelings about her.

"Hey Stan, hey Wendy," Cartman said in an overly cheery voice, "how's South Parks most famous couple this morning?"

"Good," Stan answered quickly, before turning to greet Kyle.

"Hey Wendy," Cartman flashed her a smile, "did you and Stan work on that history homework together last night?"

"Yes, it took us over an hour, but we managed to get it all done," she replied in her annoying whiny voice.

Cartman grinned and nodded - he had knocked the same work off, by himself, in fifteen minutes and most of that time was taken up with having to make logical mistakes and spelling errors.

"What about you Kahl," Cartman asked, "did you get it done?"

"If you must know Cartman, I did some of it in the library during lunch break and finished it when I got home last night," the Jewish boy snapped.

Cartman could tell it was bothering Kyle - reminding him about Wendy and Stan spending time together. Before Wendy's latest campaign Kyle and Stan had always done their homework together.

Kyle continued, "Why are you so curious, do you need someone to copy off?"

Cartman pulled back and acted shocked, "Kahl my homework is all done. Ah was just making conversation."

"What, you got Butters to come round and do it for you," Kyle accused.

"Unlike some people Kahl, ah'm not desperate for the company of men on an evening."

Stan grinned when he heard Cartman's suggestive comment and Wendy hid her smile behind her hand.

"Like your mother you mean," Kyle retorted harshly.

"Shut up about my mom you worthless Jew!" Cartman shouted back - sometimes it's best to turn to the classics.

Kyle clenched his fists and stepped forwards, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Kenny.

"Hey Stan, Wendy," Kenny said, "are they about to kick off again?"

"Shut the fuck up Kenneh," Cartman was about to storm off when Stan interrupted him - letting everyone know that the bus was here.

* * *

><p>Today wasn't much different from ant other day - as far as school was concerned. As for Cartman - today was frustrating. He knew all the answers - hell he knew more than the teachers. Sadly he had to act normal so he couldn't just start answering the questions in class. Pretending to be stupid was hard work. What made it so much worse, was the annoying know-it-all Jew - who always seemed to have his hand up to offer the right answers. By the end of class Cartman was longing to answer the teachers questions correctly, just to rub it in Kyle's face.<p>

Cartman wasn't really looking forward to Ike's music lesson, after school. Normally it was a fun hour for both Eric and his student but today he had Kyle to deal with. The Jew seemed determined, today, to mess up everything.

Ike was already waiting in the music room when Cartman entered. The dark-haired Canadian was sitting at the piano, running through scales. He was precise and even - keeping up a good tempo and consistent volume. Cartman had told Ike, during one of their early lessons, that the smaller boy had the fingers of a musician - long and thin and so unlike Eric's own shorter, chubbier ones. Ike also had a natural ear and was a fast learner. Ideally, Ike should have moved on to a more advanced tutor months ago but the smaller boy had insisted on sticking with Cartman.

"Hey Ike," Cartman said as he approached the piano, "your scales are sounding good. Do you want to show me your practice piece now?"

Ike nodded and started to play, his hands moving easily to find the notes. He didn't need the music in his bag, as his hours of practice had locked the notes into his brain.

Cartman perched himself on the tall stool - behind and to the left of the younger boy. From his vantage point he could observe every finger stroke and movement. Ike was good but he wasn't getting the best out of the music. Until today Cartman had been unable to pinpoint just what Ike was doing wrong. The Canadian was technically flawless but the tune lacked an emotional presence. He thought about it more as the music continued.

Unseen and unheard by the two boys lost in the music - Kyle slipped into the music room. He was here, like he had promised, eager to watch Cartman in action. He quietly took a seat at the back of the room - he had agreed not to interfere with Ike's lesson unless Cartman did something offensive.

Ike had finished playing his piece and looked upwards towards Cartman expectantly. He knew that it didn't quite sound right and hoped his tutor could explain why.

"You're technically flawless Ike," Cartman started with, "but it lacked heart. You could feel that, right?"

Ike nodded sadly in agreement.

"Your mistake is that you're attacking the music like it's a maths problem. Imagine a deer ambling through a forest. It doesn't maintain an even pace. It slows up to search for a trail, it hastens from a sudden sound. You are trying to impose an even tempo on the music."

Ike nodded finally understanding.

"It's an easy mistake to make for anyone brought up in a world of modern music. Most of the music we hear every day has a fixed tempo - whether that's pop songs or background music in films and TV shows. It's what you're used to, it's what you expect." Cartman slipped off his stool to sit next to Ike on the piano chair. "A lot of classical music is written with a moving and flexible tempo. Listen to how ah play the same sonata"

Cartman's fingers ran easily over the keys - his eyes were closed as he reached for the emotions of the music.

Kyle, listening at the back of the room, could sense the difference straight away. Where Ike's performance was wooden and uncomfortable - Cartman gave the same piece an energy and passion. Kyle could almost see the deer skipping through the forest from Eric's description. He made the music sound beautiful.

The music came to an end, snapping all three out of their thoughts.

"Playing like that, finding the emotions in the music, adds a whole level of difficulty," Cartman told his pupil.

"So I have to play it the way you just did?" Ike asked.

"No," Cartman answered, "every deer has to find its own way through the forest."

Ike smiled, understanding Eric's point, "Will you play something special for me?" The younger boy asked.

Cartman returned the smile and gestured for Ike to take the stool. He closed his eyes again, searching his memories for a piece of music, before starting to play. Neither of the two brothers recognised the piece as Cartman played. The melody was simple at first, gentle and lilting, it almost reminded Kyle of a nursery rhyme. Then Eric brought his second hand into play - hitting the dark, deep notes with a pitched level of intensity. Instantly the simple melody took on a new thread - now it was a child being chased by a dark brooding presence. Kyle gasped as Cartman changed the tune completely - now the higher notes were teasing and mocking, the deeper note sad and vulnerable. As the piece reached its crescendo the two parts seemed to come together. Cartman's hands moved closer and closer until they were a blur in the centre of the piano. Then there was calm, all three boys seemed to be holding their breath and it was a long ten seconds before Ike spoke.

"That was amazing," Kyle could hear his brothers enthusiasm, "will I ever be able to play like that?"

"Maybe you will Ike," Cartman answered, "if you practice a lot."

It was only then that Ike noticed Kyle in the room. He looked puzzled for a second before asking, "Why are you here? Isn't mom picking us up?"

Kyle had no idea whether his mom was picking Ike up or not - but he had to say something, "I came to hear you play. I wanted to see how good you are."

Ike grinned slyly, "Checking up on us eh? What, did you think that Eric wasn't teaching me anything?"

Kyle blushed - that was exactly what he had been thinking but he couldn't admit that, "No, I just wanted to spend some time with my brother - is that a problem?"

Ike looked away - feeling slightly guilty now. Thankfully the awkward moment was interrupted by Cartman.

"Now Ike, the piece of music ah want you to practice for next week is tricky. At first it seems easy but the more you get into it the more you'll get out of it." On saying this Cartman handed Ike a folded up sheet of music.

Ike put the music into his backpack and ran out of the room. Kyle moved to follow but saw that Cartman was dawdling at the piano.

"Cartman I was wrong," the Jewish boy was a strong enough person to apologise to his enemy, "you are a good music teacher. Ike's lucky to have you."

Cartman raised his head to look at Kyle and smiled. Playing the piano was the one thing that relaxed him - made him release all his stress and rage. Right now he was feeling mellow and tranquil - hell he was even willing to be friendly with Kyle.

"It's alright Kahl. Ah can understand why you would question my teaching skills," Eric closed the lid on the piano and picked up his bag.

As they walked together, towards the door, Kyle asked, "By the way Cartman, what was that second piece you played called?"

Cartman flushed, the tune and every note had just poured out of him as he sat at the piano - completely improvised. It couldn't possibly have a name, as he had only just created it on the spot. He answered with the first thing that came to mind, "Mountain Town sonata"

Kyle's eyes stretched open as he took in what Cartman said, "Did you write it?" He asked, thinking it was something Cartman had spent months working on.

"Yes," Cartman admitted, "it's a bit over-dramatic but ah enjoy playing it."

By this time the two boys were exiting the school building. Kyle could see his mother's car parked and waiting for him, "Does my mom usually give you a ride?" He asked.

"Sometimes," Cartman answered. "Today ah have to get to the bank and ah need to pick up some groceries."

"You should come to our house for supper," Kyle offered, "Tuesday night my mom usually makes a pot roast."

In his head Cartman debated whether spending more time with the Jew was worth a proper cooked meal. It had been so long since he'd had a roast - his mouth was already salivating at the thought of it.

"As ah said," Cartman answered, "ah've got stuff to do and anyway, your parents might not want me there."

"I'll ask my mom now," Kyle replied quickly.

Cartman watched as Kyle ran over to his mother's car. He kept back - not wanting to appear too eager and desperate. After half a minute Kyle ran back over to him.

"My mom said that you're, more than, welcome Cartman," Kyle informed him. "We usually eat a little after seven."

Cartman nodded, "Ah should get there for, just before, seven then?"

Kyle smiled, "If you're early we can play video games. I'll have finished my homework before six."

"Ah'll try to get there early then," Cartman answered - feeling slightly uncomfortable. Normally Kyle would have said something to piss him off by now.

Kyle turned to walk to the car, "See ya later Fat-ass."

Cartman's mouth screwed up into a grin - it wouldn't be a conversation with Kyle if there wasn't some sort of insult.

Eric waited until the car had driven off before making his own way. He normally didn't enjoy walking but today he was feeling good - despite setting a brisk pace. He got to the bank much quicker than he usually did but didn't feel out of breath or sweaty. He pushed the worries that came with that thought out of his mind for now - he could think about it later, or not. It didn't take long for Eric to deposit the cash into his bank account. Originally he had planned to do this yesterday but events had distracted him. His next stop was at the grocery store - where he checked the reduced price shelf before grabbing his usual items from the shelves. He didn't indulge himself with any of the tempting sweets and snacks - he just bought the basic food items; milk, eggs, cereal, juice and bread. All store brand and all cheap. He also bought; peanut butter, cheap meat spread, grape jelly and cereal bars - as well as his selection of dreaded microwave meals.

Without even realising, Eric's brain was adding up the totals as he went along. He didn't have to, consciously, think about it - it was kind-of kewl. While he waited for his turn at the register, Eric pulled his re-usable grocery bag out of the side pocket of his backpack. He didn't use it because he cared about the environment but because the store charged for their bags. Every cent counted after all. The woman working the register appeared even more bored than the customers, as she ran items quickly through the infra-red bar-code scanner.

The stores cheesy music was really starting to get to Cartman. He could see every note as it played out - it was like the score was being written out in his brain while the music played. The same thing had happened when he passed by a store assistant who was listening to music on his mp3 player. Not only could Eric hear the tunes, as easily as if the ear buds were in his own ears, but he could also visualise and identify the songs as they played out. It was as if every piece of music he had ever heard was stripped down to its individual component parts - then filed away for easy access. It was slightly freaking him out.

It was Eric's turn at the till and he handed over his coupons and money without really thinking much. His thoughts were rather occupied after all. When he was handed back his change, however, something didn't feel right. He took a look at the coins in his hand - rather than just dumping them into his pocket, like usual. A couple of the coins were duds - coins from various South America counties. Of similar size and appearance to real US money but worth much less. Cartman stood there for a second, unsure what to do. His natural reaction would be to complain - make as much of a row about this as possible.

"Miss, you've given me some foreign coins in my change," Cartman said as politely as possible.

"Move on you're holding up the line," was her dismissive reply.

Behind him, Eric could feel the presence of other shoppers starting to get agitated.

"What," Cartman said sarcastically, raising his voice to challenge the woman - it was almost like he couldn't help himself, "are you planning to slip them fake change as well?"

"Do you want me to call security?" The assistant hissed.

"No but ah think someone should get the manager," Cartman replied loudly, "ah'm sure he'll be interested to know that you're stealing off of the customers."

Just then a management type walked up - a security guard with him, "Is there some sort of problem here?"

"This customer refuses to leave," the register woman said quickly.

"She's giving out foreign coins, rather than real change, to customers," Eric said in retaliation.

"That's a serious accusation," the manager said. "Do you have any proof?"

"You mean apart from the coins in my hand and the foreign coins she's got on her person?" Cartman raised an eyebrow, "Does she have family living abroad somewhere?"

"Are you accusing one of our employees of deliberate theft?" the manager appeared annoyed.

"It wouldn't take more than a few seconds for your security person to check," Cartman countered. "Try the right pocket on her jacket."

The teller was backing up now - looking afraid, "You can't just search me. You don't have my permission."

"Maybe they can't," Cartman said triumphantly, "but the police can."

Cartman indicated towards a uniformed officer who was waiting in the queue with a couple of boxes of doughnuts, coffee and milk.

The manager rushed to fetch the officer while the security guard eyed the woman distrustfully. As the manager was explaining to the police officer what was going on - the woman saw a chance to make a break for it. She clearly thought that if she dumped the fake change she had in her pockets - then she could return and proclaim her innocence later. The security guard was waiting for her to make her move, however. He easily blocked her escape and held her firmly by the shoulders.

"Let go of me," the woman screamed before spewing a volley of curse words - mainly in Portuguese but with some Spanish thrown in.

Cartman listened intently to what she was saying. He had always been good with languages but now, he suspected, he would be able to speak and understand any number of them fluently.

"You have been caught - act with dignity," Cartman said in perfect Portuguese.

The woman stopped and stared at the boy who had foiled her thieving. There was something about him that dominated and commanded any situation. She stopped struggling and sank back into her chair, cowed.

It didn't take long for the police office to sort everything out. The waiting customers had moved over to other registers as the manager closed this one down. He also apologised to Cartman and thanked him for helping catch the criminal. He finished off by handing Eric a book of store vouchers to the value of fifty dollars and telling him that he was a valued customer.

Cartman left the grocery store slightly stunned by everything that had happened. The events had seemed to leap out, like in a story. He was clearly struggling to adjust to his improved hearing and analysing abilities. He wondered whether it would be a good idea to skip the meal at Kyle's house. Then he worried that, by not showing up, he would only attract more questions and interest from the Jewish boy. In the end he decided to go. He was already adjusting to the improved hearing and, given the way his eyes were developing a zoom feature, sound was the least of his problems. As he walked home, he experimented by staring at things in the distance. Each time he stared, for more than a few moments, the area he was looking at would appear to rush towards him - always in perfect focus. The first few time it happened Eric couldn't help but think that it was kewl - but, after a few minutes, he was beginning to feel a little nauseous. He tried looking around continuously - but the zoom kept triggering, faster and faster. Finally, in desperation, he shut his eyes and focused his mind on calming down. It must have seemed weird, to anyone who drove past him, but it worked. When he opened his eyes again the zoom feature was under his control - it didn't happen unless he wanted it to.

* * *

><p>The living room was a bit of a mess, Cartman noted as he stepped into his house. While he'd been at school his mother must have returned. He couldn't hear her upstairs and with his improved hearing he would - even if it was only her heartbeat while she slept. She must have been and gone - either crashing at the house while he was at school or coming back to pick up some of her things. By things Eric included her clothing, her drug paraphernalia and her numerous sex toys. It was easier to think of everything together and less disgusting that way.<p>

Cartman unpacked his shopping into the fridge quickly. It wasn't that he was running late but that he hated how depressing his life had become. He could still recall the times when his mom greeted him warmly after school and cooked delicious meals. His younger self had taken it all for granted. Now he was so deprived of a good meal that he was willing to run the gauntlet of Kyle's mom to get one.

Eric moved quickly upstairs next. He hadn't taken off his backpack or coat. There was no heating on in the house and he didn't bother to put it on for the brief amount of time he was going to be here. He swung his backpack onto his bed and opened it - pulling out the homework he had for the day. His bag was yet another thing that was in need of replacing. he mentally added it to the list of things he needed but couldn't have.

Cartman worked quickly to finish his homework. There was no need to reference his notes or textbooks, as he had it all stored in his mind. He was even finding it easier to include the mistakes. In no time he had finished. A glance at his bedside clock told him that it was a little after five - still too soon to head to Kyle's house. He straightened and tidied his room - repacking his backpack for tomorrow. Cartman wasn't used to having much free time during the week but his new abilities were letting him get through everything so much faster. He decided to catch a shower and change into nicer clothes. The hot water was refreshing against his skin.

As a fat kid, and yes he could admit that now - although only to himself and not to others, Eric had never been as bothered by the cold weather as his friends. It was only when he had started losing the weight, in the last year or so, that he had started to notice the cold. South Park was a cold, bleak town. It was hard for him to find any reason why anybody would choose to live here. Being born in this town wasn't a justification for living here, in Cartman's opinion. He felt no nostalgia for his childhood haunts - hell it was hard to remember the few brief times when he had been genuinely happy.

Eric reluctantly left the shower as the water started to turn cold - watching as the stress of another day ran down the drain. He dressed quickly - the cold was a good motivator. Choosing to wear his newest, and therefore narrowest waisted, pair of jeans. Even so, they were loose on him. He sighed - new clothes were another expense he could do without.

Eric still had a little time before he wanted to set off for Kyle's. He decided to spend it writing out the tune he had played earlier onto a blank sheet of music paper - one of his few indulgences. It didn't take long - his pencil flew across the page as he recalled every note. As he wrote he could hear the music and the deep emotions it drew from him. Shrugging the mood off, Eric put the filled in sheet music away and stood up. He grabbed his jacket and hurried downstairs.

The walk to Kyle's house was short and before Eric knew it he was stood in front of the Broflovski residence. The door was opened by Kyle, only a few seconds after Cartman had knocked. The Jewish boy smiled and showed Eric into his warm home.

"Hello Eric," Shelia said in greeting, "I'm so glad you could join us this evening."

"Thank you Mrs Broflovski," it was hard for Cartman not to compare the warm and lived-in home with his own austere house. "It's very kind of you to invite me."

"C'mon Cartman," Kyle tugged at Eric's arm, "lets go up to my room. We can play video games - since I've just finished my homework."

Cartman nodded, handed over his jacket and allowed himself to be lead upstairs. Ike was waiting for them on the landing.

"I've already started practising the new piece you gave me," the younger boy said - clearly excited about having his music teacher in his home.

"That's kewl Ike," Eric replied, "maybe you can play something for all of us after dinner?"

Ike smile and nodded in agreement before rushing into his bedroom.

Kyle pushed his door open and stepped into the room, with Cartman following quickly behind. the room was how Eric remembered it from the last time he had been here - even though it was only a few months ago.

Kyle had one of those all combined entertainment systems. The wide-screen computer monitor also served as his TV and was connected to his PS3. Kyle sat on his computer chair as he turned everything on.

"Lets go two player on Black Ops," Kyle suggested - while inserting the disk into the games console.

Cartman nodded in agreement as he picked up the second controller. Black Ops wasn't a game he had spent a lot of time on - given that his mother hadn't bought him any video games in over two years, even then they had been second-hand and cheap. He had played the earlier games enough to know how to work his character on the screen and had, at least, played the game a few times at Stan and Kyle's houses.

Kyle liked to play the game on hardcore - where one hit could kill your character, rather the been able to soak up damage. Cartman tended to agree. In real life, if a bullet hit you, you were dead - no health bar, no second chances.

It was soon clear that, although Kyle had all the levels memorised and knew all the best places to hide and shoot from, Eric was the one with the faster reactions and better hand-eye co-ordination. He memorised the maps as he played and, despite Kyle's initial advantage, soon it was Cartman who was clearly the better player.

"You've gotten good at this Cartman," Kyle commented as he lobbed a grenade into a crowded area.

Cartman smiled at the honest complement, "Ah guess ah'm just on it today," he replied - maintaining his concentration on the screen.

"You wanna go on-line?" Kyle asked.

"Yeh," Cartman agreed, "lets kick some asses."

For the next half hour the two boys sat silently trading off turns on the game. Too into the on-screen violence to fight with each other.

Kyle lifted his head up when he heard his dad pulling up in the driveway, "This will have to be the last turn Cartman," he told the boy who was currently gripping the controller.

Eric just nodded - his eyes were fixed on the action in front of him. His character jinked and moved - racking up the kills while dodging everything that came at it. Kyle couldn't believe what he was seeing - Cartman was like a one man army.

As the game ended Kyle stared at the scores on the screen. His best score of the day had been a modest count of twelve kills and eight deaths - it was a reasonable return for him. Cartman had just produced a remarkable score - forty-seven kills and no deaths. Even as Kyle looked at it, he still found it hard to believe.

Eric excused himself to the bathroom while Kyle put away the game and tidied up his room. Splashing water on his face, Cartman tried to tell himself that Kyle wouldn't suspect anything. Knowing that he shouldn't have tried so hard on the game and cursing that he lost control because he got so into it. Maybe, he tried to tell himself, Kyle will just think that I've had a lot of practice.

The two boys passed by each other outside the bathroom. Cartman to go downstairs and Kyle to wash up.

"You were awesome on Black Ops Cartman," Kyle said as he entered the bathroom.

"Probably just lucky," Cartman managed to reply, before hurtling down the stairs.

Kyle stood, puzzled, after hearing Cartman's words. It wasn't like the Fat-ass to not boast and brag about something like this. The Cartman Kyle knew would be ramming it in everyone s face, taking a photo of the scores on the screen to show to everyone at school and generally acting like a complete ass. Why wasn't Cartman making a big deal about this?

Eric, meanwhile, had offered to lay the table for Mrs Broflovski. He was being extra-polite in the hopes of future invites. Sure Kyle's mom was a loud-mouth bitch - but she could cook like a demon and her portions were generous.

Kyle and Ike came down together - just before their mother went to call them. Eric couldn't help but smile when he saw Kyle's reaction to his polite behaviour. The red-head scowled at first before stopping - wiping the look off his face before his mother spotted it.

Kyle was actually thinking about other things. He had been asking around about Cartman. From what information he could gather, the Fat-ass had things pretty bad at home. Wendy had pointed out Eric's loss of weight and the fact that he hadn't had any new clothes for, more than, a year. Kenny had told him how cold and empty the Cartman home was. How the fridge and food cupboards were mostly empty - save for store brand cereals, bread and microwave dinners. Stan had told him about Eric using his tutoring money to pay for the food and utility bills.

When Kyle first saw Cartman acting all nice and polite towards his parents he had been annoyed - his first instinct was to suspect the Fat-ass was up to something. Then he had stopped himself. Cartman was only being nice in the hopes of future invites. How was that any different from Kenny - who had dinner at Kyle's house twice a week? No kid deserved having to live how Cartman was living. Kyle shook off his initial anger and instead sent a warn, genuine smile towards the other boy.

"So tell me Eric, how have you been?" Shelia Broflovski asked.

Cartman swallowed the food he was chewing. He had been careful to eat normally - despite devouring the food with his eyes, "Ah've been good Mrs Broflovski. Ah've managed to loose a little weight."

Shelia nodded approvingly, "You're not just dieting are you. Dieting heavily isn't good for children. You should also be getting plenty of exercise."

"Ah've actually managed to put on some muscles," Cartman shyly admitted - not revealing the truth behind them.

"That's good," Gerald Broflovski commented, "are you thinking about trying out for any sports?"

"Ah haven't thought about it," Eric admitted, "ah'm not sure ah'd have the time though - what with school work and giving piano lessons."

The truth was that, with his new abilities, Eric would excel in sports. Being good at sports could earn him a free ride into college - something to think about for the future, maybe. Sports would come with risks though. Did he really want to attract all that public attention? Would he be able to keep his powers secret under those conditions?

"We're very pleased with how Ike is progressing with the piano," Shelia said while offering Eric a second helping of potatoes

"Ah think that he's ready to move up to a more advance tutor," Eric informed them. "Ah normally only teach introductory, beginner and intermediate. Ike's about ready for advanced classes."

He hated to say it, given that it would cut into his monthly income, but it was true. Eric always tried to do the best for his students. He usually recommended Mrs Cherry - a woman who lived in North Park. She returned the favour to him by passing new starter pupils, in South Park anyway, to him.

"I don't want another teacher, I want Eric," Ike said loudly and insistently from his seat at the end of the table.

"Ike your father and I shall decide who your piano teacher will be - not you. Now eat your vegetables," Shelia dismissed her sons complaint without thinking.

"Ah must admit," Cartman said - seeing Ike's sad expression, "your son is quite a few years younger than most advanced students. Maybe he wouldn't be comfortable with having a more serious tutor."

"Are you qualified to teach advanced piano Eric?" Gerald asked.

"Ah am," Cartman acknowledged, "but ah usually don't because the pupils tend to be my age and older. It would be different with Ike - but as ah say, it should be your decision."

As the Broflovskis moved on to discuss other, family, matters - Eric concentrated on enjoying his meal. The pot roast was delicious - especially for someone who hadn't had a good meal in a long time. The potatoes were heavenly - Eric even enjoyed the vegetables. The whole dinner only brought more into focus how crappy his usual fare of microwave meals were. When Mrs Broflovski produced a home-made trifle, from the fridge, he almost kissed her.

After dinner Ike went to fetch his keyboard while Kyle did the washing up. Eric offered to help but was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was a guest and he should just relax. Cartman accepted this with only a brief apologetic look towards Kyle. Fortunately he only had to make awkward small-talk with Kyle's parents for a few minutes before Ike returned with his keyboard.

"What should I play?" Ike asked Eric after he had finished setting up.

"Start with the piece you learned a few weeks ago - 17c," Cartman suggested.

Ike nodded and began to play. It was a gentle and lilting tune, ideally suited to an electronic keyboard. When he had finished he turned to look at Eric for his opinion.

"You didn't miss a note Ike," Eric told the younger boy - before turning to Ike's parents, "you know, if you really want Ike to progress musically, he needs a proper piano."

Kyle had finished in the kitchen and had just joined them, "Why does he need a piano? Isn't his keyboard good enough?"

Eric smiled, "With a keyboard it's all about on and off with the keys. No matter how hard or soft you strike the key - it all sounds the same."

"And a piano is different," Kyle finished - finally understanding.

"A small upright piano doesn't take up much space and second-hand ones can be surprisingly affordable," Eric informed them.

"I'm not sure," Gerald Broflovski answered, "it is a considerable expense."

"Ike has access to a piano at school," Shelia pointed out, "isn't that enough?"

"That depends on how seriouslah Ike takes his music," Cartman replied, "as ah said - he is young."

Gerald and Shelia pause to think about what Eric has said. It was then that Ike decided to speak.

"Eric will you play something for us," the Canadian boy asked, indicating towards the keyboard.

Cartman nodded and moved to swap places with Ike. He knew how this keyboard worked. It was the same as the one he had at home. In fact he had recommended it for Ike. It didn't take more than a few seconds for him to switch the settings over, making it sound like a harpsichord, and launch into an all keyboard rendition of _I've Got Something On My Mind_ by_ The Left Banke_. He improvised extra chords and melodys to make up for the lack of other instruments. Cartman had never let his unconventional vocal style stop him before - and he didn't now. He loved to sing and his favourite songs were always the obscure ones that his friends had never heard of. Not just songs from before they were born - but hidden classics. The songs people had forgotten or never even knew. The next song he played was the _David Bowie_ classic - _Karma Man_. For this he switched the keyboard to sound like the music that plays at the fairground. A song recorded by Bowie in the sixties, prior to his fame, and mostly ignored. For Cartman it was one of Bowies best songs. He finished off with a rendition of the _R.E.M._ song _Camera_ - switching the keyboard back to piano. It was one of their earlier songs and a song Eric found it easy to relate to.

After he had finished, Eric looked up at each of the Broflovskis - they were looking slightly stunned.

"I never realised you were so good Eric," Shelia finally said.

Crap, Cartman thought, whatever is happening to me has done something to my singing voice.

"You were amazing," Kyle said, "better than that - you're as good as anyone I've heard on TV."

Cartman ducked his head in embarrassment, "Ah guess that puberty must have straightened out mah voice a bit."

Seeing their guests discomfort - Shelia turned to her youngest son, "Ike, it's getting near to your bed time. You should take your keyboard back upstairs and get ready."

Ike moved to follow his mom's instructions - but before rushing upstairs he turned to Eric and flashed a big smile, "Thanks for coming tonight."

"Ah had a good time," Cartman told Ike before turning to speak to the rest of the family, "ah really should be getting home myself."

Kyle escorted his friend to the door and opened it for him - while Cartman pulled his coat on, "See you tomorrow Cartman," he said as he held the door open.

"Yeah," Cartman replied, "thank you for having me over Kahl."

Kyle watched as Cartman trudged down the street. He couldn't help but see how the life and energy his friend had shown while singing had now drained away.

* * *

><p>To Eric the contrast between his own house and the Broflovskis couldn't be more evident. He remembered how Kenny always used to look for excuses to sleep-over at his three friends houses, when they were younger. He had known at the time that Kenny's family were poor, his house was cold and that there was nothing to eat - he just hadn't cared that much. As he entered the house, he thought about how crappy his life was. Kids shouldn't have to worry about paying the bills and making sure they had enough to eat. Karma really was a bitch.<p>

The whole house was cold and dark but despite this he could see well enough to make his way upstairs to his room. Once he'd locked his bedroom door - he flipped his electric oil heater on. It was cheaper to use, rather than run the central heating for the whole house, and after all he was only really going to be using this one room for the rest of the night.

As he stripped off he noticed how his clothes sat on his, now buff and well muscled, frame. He really did need to get himself some new clothes. He sighed as he laid down on top of his bed - thinking about anything other than his own life.

* * *

><p>He must have drifted off because it was a few hours later when Eric was awoken by the sounds of someone outside his window. He moved quickly to see who it was.<p>

"Kenneh?" Eric said as he fumbled, half-asleep to open the window.

"Hello Cartman," Kenny replied, "I wanted to have a word with you."

"What's this about poor boy - it's the middle of the night," Cartman managed to sound both sleepy and pissed-off at once.

"I know something is going on with you," Kenny told Cartman, "your mom didn't buy you a teachers copy of the exercise book."

"So ah found some other way to cheat - so what Kenneh," Cartman said defensively. "Maybe ah lied so that ah could use the same method to cheat again."

"That doesn't explain how you're able to run so fast," Kenny pointed out.

He must have seen me running the other day, Cartman realised. He tried to think fast.

"Haven't you noticed," Cartman sneered - trying to sound confident, "ah've been loosing weight for a while now - and exercising in secret."

"I don't believe you," Kenny said - his blue eyes focusing on Cartman with a deep intensity.

"Whatever Kenneh," Cartman tried to sound dismissive, "it's not your business and not your problem."

"I'm trying to help you Fat-ass," Kenny raised his voice, "I'm your friend."

"Some friend," Cartman snapped, "you always ditch me to sniff around the latest girl you're into."

Kenny paused - feeling slightly ashamed by what Cartman had said, "I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you as much as I should. You've been going through some tough shit and I missed it. I've been a bad friend - but I'm here now. Talk to me Cartman, please."

Eric swallowed hard - it was really tempting, the idea of being able to unload about everything that was going on, but could he trust Kenny?

"My mom's never around and ah've been having to look after myself," Cartman finally said - not ready yet to trust anyone about his new abilities.

"So that's why you've lost weight," Kenny reasoned, "your mom hasn't been feeding you."

"The other day," Cartman spoke tentatively, "those two cereal bars were my breakfast."

"You gave them to me," Kenny sounded surprised

"Ah knew that you probably hadn't eaten all weekend - it was OK," Cartman tried to dismiss his act of kindness.

"I appreciate it man," Kenny finally moved to sit down on Cartman's bed, "my parents aren't the best at providing for us but at least they're there - to talk to and stuff."

Cartman pulled the window shut and sat down next to Kenny, "That's what ah miss the most, not the food and presents, my mom being there when ah get home from school - fussing around and chatting to me while ah try to watch TV."

Kenny nodded, understanding, and patted his friend on the back.

"She stole money from me to pay for her drugs and partying," Eric said quietly, "money that ah'd earned."

"You've had it rough," Kenny said, "and your behaviour has pushed people away and prevented anyone from helping you."

"Thanks Kenneh," Cartman smiled gently, "talking to you has really helped."

Kenny stared at Cartman, not speaking for a few seconds. He looked slightly shocked, "Are you taking anything?"

"What?" Cartman was surprised by the random question, "No," he finally answered, firmly.

"Your eyes have turned silver," Kenny informed his friend.

Cartman silently cursed and thought quickly of an excuse, "Ah've been using eye-drops to help with my headaches. Ah think the label said something about loosing colour pigment in your eyes."

Kenny stared hard at Cartman - trying to judge whether he was being lied to or not. It was hard to say - given how Cartman sometimes convinced himself with his own lies. He decided to let it go - seeing as Cartman had finally opened up about his family situation. Kenny knew that there was more going on but Cartman wasn't exactly the most open person and pushing him now would only make things uncomfortable.

"If people found out that ah was living like this - ah'd be put into an orphanage," Cartman spoke quietly, it was something he had thought about a lot.

"I won't say anything," Kenny promised.

"Ah think that Stan and Kahl have guessed."

"You don't have to worry Cartman, they know how to keep quiet," Kenny placed a reassuring hand on his friends shoulder and was surprised to feel the firm muscle there.

"Do you wanna crash tonight?" Eric asked as he climbed back into bed.

"Sure," Kenny replied - kicking off his boots and throwing off his jacket and jeans before getting into the other side of the bed. "Beats sleeping on a second-hand mattress in a cold, rat-infested shit hole."

Cartman fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> Super Hero won the battle of the stories. Some people reviewed this story saying they actually preferred the other story. Sorry but I was counting the actual review numbers._

_Anyway this is a really long chapter - it took me over a week to type it up (lol). I've also been sick with a nasty bought of flu._

_The three songs Cartman sings are all personal favourites of mine. Extra Kyman hugs to anyone who searches them out._

_Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 3**

**Wednesday - The Sports Jock Part 1**

Cartman woke up feeling Kenny's knees pressed up against his back. Apparently the poor boy had curled up in his sleep before moving closer to him for warmth. Either way the uncomfortable position woke Eric completely - a good hour before his alarm. Despite this, Cartman was fully awake and alert. No weird dreams last night, for this he was grateful.

He slid out of bed and hurriedly dressed, letting Kenny sleep in. Eric didn't shut his alarm off though he figured it would wake Kenny. After visiting the bathroom he ventured downstairs. The living room was still untidy from his mothers brief time in there while he was at school yesterday. He moved quickly straightening and tidying before heading into the kitchen.

For once he was up early enough to make himself a cooked breakfast so he quickly set-to, making a double-sized batch of scrambled eggs and toast. He normally just drank water when he was by himself it was practically free after all. Since Kenny would be joining him, Eric dipped into his supply of dilute orange juice. Placing the two glasses to chill in the fridge prior to his friend making an appearance.

Eric felt, kind of, bad keeping secrets from his best friend but the fear of being revealed to the world was still strong. He still hadn't accepted it himself fully testing his control, he watched as blue strands of lightning danced across his fingertips. Eric shut it off as he heard his friend coming down the stairs. Despite them being empty he instinctively hid his hands behind his back as Kenny entered the kitchen.

"You've made breakfast," Kenny said sounding incredibly grateful.

"It's just eggs and toast," Eric said dismissively. He was decidedly uncomfortable with any sort of thanks from his friends it didn't fit in with his 'Cartman' image.

Cartman fetched the chilled orange juices out of the fridge and joined Kenny at the table.

The blonde boy didn't seem to have a problem with helping himself. Kenny didn't comment about the fact that it was cheap, store brand, margarine - rather than butter. He was entirely satisfied with the free meal and didn't question it's contents.

Neither boy was one for talking much when food was in front of them. They ate quietly until Eric was finished and Kenny had just one piece of toast left on his plate.

"Ah finished before you Kenneh," Cartman said teasingly - a grin on his lips.

"I was thinking of taking this to school so I would have something to eat for lunch," Kenny replied. Surprisingly Kenny trusted Cartman enough to say something like this - Eric was, perhaps, the one friend he had who understood what it was like to go hungry and neglected.

Cartman's smile fell from his face, "No Kenneh, no!"

Cartman got up and moved over to the counter, where he had two paper bags waiting.

"Ah made us sandwiches for lunch, see," Eric explained as he picked up the two bags - moving across to hand one to Kenny. "One sandwich is chicken and ham spread and the other is peanut butter and jelly."

Kenny took the bag, with a deliberately neutral expression on his face, peering inside to see the two sandwiches wrapped in foil and waiting for him.

"Finish your toast Kenneh and watch some TV while ah get dressed for school," Cartman suggested before rushing upstairs.

Before Kenny could even think about saying thank you to his friend - Eric was gone, already upstairs. He held the last slice of toast between his teeth while carrying his plate over to the sink. Kenny knew that Cartman did most of the house-work - so he rinsed his plate before washing it, and Eric's, drying them and putting them away in the cupboard. He then walked into the living room, munching occasionally.

Cartman, meanwhile, had gotten dressed rather quickly - basically he'd just thrown on the same clothes that he'd worn the night before, to Kyle's house. He hurriedly grabbed his bag and made his way downstairs. Kenny was waiting for him, leaning up against the wall next to the front door.

"Ready to go?" Eric asked his friend.

"Another day at school," Kenny joked rolling his eyes, "can't wait."

Cartman grinned as he shut and locked the door behind them. Neither boy was in a big hurry and Kenny entertained the larger boy with a story about a 'tit job' he claimed to have got over the weekend.

"Do me a favour Kenneh," Cartman said after Kenny had finished.

"What?" Kenny asked, dodging a dangerous-looking patch of black ice.

"Tell Kahl that same story when you sit next to him in history this afternoon."

"Why?" Kenny asked innocently. he knew that Kyle's inner prude would kick in if he repeated the story to the Jewish boy.

"Ah want to see if he can stop himself from whining about respecting the other person and not sleeping around," Cartman answered truthfully. "History class is usually pretty boring."

Respecting the other person and not sleeping around were the two main topics that Kyle brought up every time Kenny described one of his sexual adventures. Eric was pretty sure that Kyle was directly quoting his mother when he told Kenny off.

"Make sure you tell him that you have no intention of ever seeing or even calling the girl again," Cartman added. "Ah want to see if he looses it and starts lecturing you in class."

Kenny laughed, he had no problem with pushing Kyle's buttons and he did owe Cartman for three meals, including the cereal bars on Monday, and a warm bed last night. What Cartman was suggesting fell within the bounds of harmless teasing that he had no problems with.

"OK Cartman," Kenny agreed, bumping knuckles with his friend.

Cartman was grinning like crazy when they arrived at the bus-stop

"Hey guys," Cartman said addressing Kyle, Stan and Wendy.

He was surprised when he noticed that Ike had joined them today. Ike normally used the other bus-stop, so that he could hang out with his friends Fillmore and Andrew. It wasn't much further to walk there, from the Broflovski house, than this stop and the Canadian had been using it ever since Shelia deemed Ike old enough to no longer need Kyle's protection. Today, however, Ike had chosen to use the same stop as Kyle - Eric pondered the reason as they all waited for the bus.

"Looking forward to gym Cartman?" Kyle snapped Cartman out of his contemplations, "Now that you've lost some weight and got muscles and everything."

Cartman's first thoughts were - gym, that's today, oh shit. His second thoughts were that, with his new abilities, gym would no longer be the seventh circle of hell for him. His third thought was that he would have to hold back - to not appear too sporty too soon. His forth thought was that his gym kit, which was currently residing in his locker at school, was way too big and wouldn't fit him. It had been bought at the peak of his fatness by his mom - on one of her last good days. Now it would be massively oversized to the point of ridicule. His fifth thought, of course, was to snap at Kyle for being a teasing bitch.

"Not as much as you, obviously, Kahl - ah don't get off on seeing the other guys getting changed," Cartman's comment was cruel but not totally unexpected.

"Neither do I Fat-ass," Kyle snapped back.

"So it's a co-incidence that you chose the gym locker that gives you the best view of the guys coming out of the showers?" Cartman smirked as he taunted the Jew.

Kyle's face turned red - whether it was with anger or embarrassment was debatable, "How would you know that my locker gives the best view of the showers Cartman - I certainly didn't. Unless you secretly wanted that locker yourself."

Stan, Wendy, Kenny and Ike watched as the two boys faced off - throwing insult after insult at each other.

"This is why I usually use the other stop," Ike commented while watching the argument escalate.

"At least I've got two parents who love me and care about me," Kyle threw in Cartman's face.

The rest of the group took a step back from the arguing pair. That was a low blow - even for one of Kyle and Cartman's heated arguments

"Maybe you should give up on your crush on Stan, Kahl," Cartman returned with - his voice filled with venom, "it's obvious that he's straight and loves Wendy. You should look for some other guy to faun over."

Stan's face dropped - that wasn't true, was it? There was no way that Kyle had a gay crush on him, there would have been some sort of signs. He looked at Wendy, standing beside him, she was actually nodding in agreement with Cartman's words.

"I'm not gay and I don t have a crush on Stan," Kyle insisted - his gloved fists clenched tight by his sides.

"Really?" Cartman paused for effect, "your eyes and your dick say otherwise."

"What!" Kyle shouted - slightly confused.

"Well your eyes go all big and watery every time Stan gives you any attention," Cartman explained. "You get hard-ons around him, all the time, too."

"I do not Cartman," Kyle insisted - slightly on the back foot, "and why are you looking at my crotch anyway? Maybe you're the one who's gay."

Cartman stepped back - spluttering in outrage, "At least ah've dated girls," he said in defence.

"Have you?" Kyle asked mockingly, "I certainly don't remember you having a girlfriend. That's something you wouldn't have failed to brag about."

"OK so most girls are so overwhelmed by my awesomeness that they turn me down - at least ah try. At least ah ask them out." Cartman stepped into Kyle's personal space, "Have you ever asked a girl out? No? That's proof right there."

"Proof?" Kyle shouted, "The only thing that it proves is that I'm still a kid and I think that dating at our age is stupid. Do I want to spend my weekends listening to some girl nagging about their hair, their make-up and their clothes? No! Do I want to listen to her bitch about her friends for two hours on the phone, rather than spend the time playing video games? No!"

Wendy looked at Stan accusingly.

"What," Stan looked sheepish, "he was over at my house when you called last week."

Wendy punched Stan hard on his arm and glared at him.

"Don't let this bother you," Kenny whispered to Ike, "Cartman doesn't mean most of the hurtful things he says - it's just how he is."

Ike nodded, "I kind-of figured that." He watched his brother and Eric for a few more seconds, "They enjoy arguing with each other, don't they?"

Kenny nodded, "For Kyle it's a way for him to release the stress and anger that builds up from having to deal with your mom and all the other bullshit in this town. She puts a lot of pressure on him to get top grades and set a good example for you. She also doesn't give him a lot of freedom to be himself."

"She's my mom too," Ike said.

"So you know what Kyle's having to deal with."

Ike just nodded again.

"Cartman, on the other hand, only seems to come alive when he's fighting with Kyle or running one of his crazy schemes," Kenny told the younger boy.

Ike tuned out as Cartman started to rant about how the Jewish Mafia, which controls Hollywood, were secretly pushing the massively untalented Shia LeBeouf as the next big action hero star. Giving him lead rolls in big films like Transformers, Indiana Jones and Wall Street Two - despite him having no acting ability whatsoever.

"Have you noticed something different about Eric?" Ike finally asked Kenny.

"Like what?" Kenny said - slightly on guard.

"His eyes for one thing," Ike answered, "they've turned silver."

Kenny shrugged and repeated Cartman's explanation from the other day, "He told me that he's been using eye-drops to help with his headaches."

"And you believed him?" Ike pushed.

"It could be true," Kenny replied - protective of his friend.

"Would you call Eric a good singer?" Ike asked - changing the point of attack.

"Not really," Kenny admitted, "he's got more of a character voice."

"Last night he sang after supper at my house," Ike stared at Kenny intently, "he was amazing. Better than anyone I've ever heard before."

"So," Kenny was clearly uncomfortable, "maybe he's finally growing into his voice."

"That's what Eric said," Ike replied.

The two stood in silence for a few minutes - neither one wanting to reveal all his thoughts to the other.

Cartman and Kyle had run out of steam by the time the bus showed up. Stan had quickly grabbed Kyle's arm and pulled him onto the bus with him. Wendy was still looking slightly pissed off and Stan wasn't wanting to sit with her.

Eric made his way quietly to his usual seat. He had a lot to think about - his friends were starting to notice that he was different. It was surprisingly difficult to disguise how awesome he now was at practically everything. The fact that his body had turned, over the course of a couple of days, from a lump of dough into an Adonis wouldn't go amiss either. Cartman was naturally secretive and distrustful of everyone - even those closest to him.

"Hey Eric," Cartman was vaguely aware of Butters changing seats to sit next to him.

"Hey Butters," Cartman replied - too lost in his own thoughts to snap at the other boy.

"You've lost a lot of weight recently - haven't you," Butters spoke quietly.

"And that's a good thing isn't it Butters," Cartman said calmly.

"Not if you've gotten an eating disorder or something," Butters looked around nervously - hoping for some support.

Cartman sighed, here was another person paying way too much attention to him. Maybe he could cut the naive blonde off at the pass.

"Feel my arm Butters," Cartman instructed.

"Why?" Butters questioned - looking puzzled.

"Feel the muscle," Cartman asked again.

Butters did as Eric asked and prodded his bicep, quickly, before giving it a tentative squeeze.

"If ah had an eating disorder Butters," Cartman explained, "ah wouldn't have any muscles."

Butters thought for a second, "That's not true, there are people who over-exercise to loose weight."

Cartman looked again at Butters, the blonde really was concerned about him. It was surprising just how much all his friends cared once they thought that something was up.

"Ah promise you that ah don't have an eating disorder Butters," Cartman finally said.

Butters appeared doubtful but nodded and said, "I believe you Eric."

Cartman ignored him after that. Tuning out unwanted sounds was something that came easy to him after years of living with his mother and her, energetic, late night sex sessions. It wasn't that he didn't hear anything, it was more that he let the sounds wash over him without focusing on them long enough to make out what they were. It was a similar skill to relaxing your eyes and letting everything slip out of focus.

School was its usual blend of annoying and tedious. In every school there are usually a few good teachers - the ones who connect to the pupils and inspire them to learn. Sadly for Eric, he lived in South Park - a town that had as much chance of attracting a good teacher as it had of replacing Washington DC as the nations capital. The teachers were a mix of incompetent idiots, mean bastards, sycophants and those who had no ability to control a classroom. For the most part this washed over Cartman. He ignored the incompetent idiots. He was too intimidating to be used as a classroom target by the mean teachers. He would laugh at the teachers who fawned over the smarter, richer and more popular pupils. And for the teachers who let their classroom descend into anarchy and chaos? Well Cartman would sit aloof from it all - giving a hate-filled stare to anyone who dared to bother him.

South Park Middle School was the same building as the elementary school - just upstairs. They had separate play areas for recess and a different entrance - but still, it was the same school to all appearances. Cartman surmised that it was probably cheaper to do things this way - only having to pay the wages of one principle and one guidance councillor. In fact some of the teachers were shared amongst the various middle schools in Park County. Mr Mathews, who taught history, only came to South Park one day each week - the rest of the time he was teaching elsewhere.

Cartman had done well in history class last year - a large part of his grade had been earned with a project about world war two. It had helped that he had presented a project in full Nazi regalia - wearing his old costume, that he had persuaded Butters to help alter for him. Also that he had spoken many typical German phrases before translating them for the class.

Cartman had always had a knack for languages - it probably came from his innate paranoia about not being able to understand what people were saying. As a young child his mom had regularly brought foreign language speakers into the house - Mexicans mostly. He had naturally picked up enough of the language to know when they wanted him gone, so they could be alone with his mother. Spanish wasn't the only language he heard from his mothers gentlemen guests but it was the one he heard most. Later he had learned German because of his fascination with Hitler and the Nazis - and also, strangely, Hebrew because he thought that the Jewish families were plotting to take over the world in their secret language. The fear he felt, when people talked in a language he didn't understand, went away if he learnt enough to understand what they were saying. During the whole 'Snuke' incident he had been captured by mercenarys. They had spoken Russian and Eric had hated that he didn't know what they were saying - he had vowed to fill the gap in his knowledge. A few months later he was able to get by in the language - by no means fluent but able to follow most conversations. Now, with his new abilities boosting his intelligence and memory recall, he was knowledgeable and fluent in every language he had ever heard.

After lunch Eric fetched his history book and gym kit out of his locker. He wondered why he was even bothering with the oversized clothes - they were, pretty much, useless to him.

History class started with an incredibly boring lecture from Mr Mathews about the role various religions have played in the shaping of the past. Then everyone had to split into pairs to work on projects, about the same subject, that they would have to present to class. Stan always sat with Wendy in this class - so obviously they would work together. In the same way Kyle sat with Kenny and Cartman sat with Butters.

"What do you want to do the project about Eric?" Butters asked when they were allowed to talk.

Cartman was slightly distracted - he was watching Kyle and Kenny, waiting for the Jew's reaction to Kenny's story.

"Ah don't know," Cartman answered quickly, "what about the Spanish inquisition?"

"No-one expects the Spanish inquisition," Butters replied with a giggle. Stan's dad had introduced their group to Monty Python a few months ago - they still came out with the quotes occasionally.

"Mr Mathews," Cartman said raising his hand, "me and Butters want to do our project about the Spanish inquisition - is that OK?"

"It's a good choice Eric," the teacher said as he wrote down in his notebook. "Has anybody else decided their topic yet?"

"Please sir," Wendy spoke, "Stan and I want to do our project on the Salem witch trials."

"Thank you Wendy - I'll make a note on what your doing," Mr Mathews wrote, Salem witch trials, against Wendy and Stan's names in his notebook.

Meanwhile Kenny was talking animatedly into Kyle's ear. The Jewish boy's face was turning a continuously brighter shade of red as he gripped the edge of his desk tightly in an effort to ward off his reaction.

Finally unable to control himself any longer, Kyle jumped up shouting, "Kenny!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and all the eyes in the room turned to Kyle - who was immediately mortified by his outburst. Cartman placed a hand over his mouth to prevent laughing out loud.

"Did you have something you wanted to share with the class Mr Broflovski?" The teacher spoke quickly to restore order - he only ever use the pupils surnames when it was a matter of discipline.

Kyle's anger with Kenny had quickly turned to embarrassment. He grasped at the first thing that came into his mind, "The gunpowder plot to blow up the English parliament."

"Yes that's a good topic Kyle, an early example of religion-inspired terrorism." Mr Mathews rubbed his hand on his forehead, "I don't think it warranted you disturbing the class though."

Kyle sat down, grateful for the reprieve, glaring fiercely at Kenny.

The rest of the class didn't take too long on deciding on their topics and everyone spent the rest of the lesson working on their project outlines and dividing up the work. They would be presenting their projects to the whole class in two weeks time. Mr Mathews explained that he wanted a written report as well as a short presentation. They could make a poster or model to go with the presentation. He also said that they could dress up in costumes if they wished.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> Sorry about the delay, I've been pretty busy. Anyway this chapter has turned out to be quite long and I've decided to split it in half - rather than make all my readers wait until the whole thing is typed up. Don't worry though, the second part is already written - just waiting to be typed. Expect it in about a week.  
><em>

_I got the idea of Cartman having silver eyes from from the book - The Girl With The Silver Eyes by Willo Davis Roberts. The book is a little dated now since it was first published around 1980 but has a great story._

_Appologies to any Shia LeBeouf fans out there - please don't send me any hate comments._

_Monty Python is of course not owned by me._

_Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 4**

**Wednesday - The Sports Jock Part 2**

Only jocks, like Stan, ever looked forward to gym class. Cartman could accept and even understand why it was a mandatory class - but why did they have to set it out so that it was as humiliating for the unfit, unskilled and uncoordinated as possible? Eric's point was that other classes were streamlined according to ability - gym wasn't. This made it little more than a taste of hell for kids the world over. How would fat kids, for example, ever learn to enjoy sports if they were forced to take classes alongside the uber-jocks who bullied them. Having to listen to their bullies getting praised by an intimidating coach who spat nothing but humiliating derision at them. Why couldn't schools separate the class according to ability - like they did for other subjects. Even in a small middle school, like South Park, it could still be done - just combine all the years for gym.

The coach had always intimidated Eric but he never let it show - using his Cartman attitude to shrug off the negative comments and domineering attitude. Today though, he had to speak to Coach Johnson before class. He had to explain about his weight loss and that his kit would no longer fit him. Hopefully the coach would take his weight loss as a positive thing and treat him kindly.

Cartman knocked nervously on the door to the coach's office, his kit in his hands - for show if needed. After a few seconds the door opened - hitting Eric with the scent of sweat and liniment.

"What do you want Cartman?" Coach Johnson spoke quite harshly. His attitude, combined with his physically imposing build made Eric take a step backwards .

"Ah wanted to speak to you about mah kit coach," Cartman wasn't used to being polite around adults, except when he was manipulating them, but something about Coach Johnson intimidated him.

"Are you trying to do the old I've forgotten my kit routine to get out of gym class again?" The coach mimed air quotes when he said, I've forgotten my kit.

"No ah've got my kit coach," Cartman tried to explain.

"Then why are you bothering me?" The coach almost bellowed, startling the other boys who were nearby - some who were walking past, others already getting changed.

"Please," Cartman said - trying to get the coach to listen, "ah've lost a lot of weight and my kit's too big."

"Prove it," Coach Johnson said cruelly - believing that this was another of the fat boy's lies.

Cartman dropped the clothes, he had in his hands, to the floor. He then pulled off his, now massively oversized, jacket. Before lifting up his sweater and t-shirt.

The coach stared in disbelief at the, almost flat, stomach and defined abs for a second before commenting, "You haven't just lost weight - you've been working out too." He indicated for Cartman to lower his clothing.

Cartman nodded - letting the coach see that he was agreeing with the statement, "Ah didn't want to get a new kit until ah'd lost all the weight."

Coach Johnson nodded. Normally he wouldn't give a shit about anyone who wasn't good at sports and on one of the school teams. When Cartman had started middle school the coach had tried to get the fat boy interested in playing football but had been turned down repeatedly. Eric had always been too lazy to put in the effort needed to play team sports. Now, however, the boy seemed to have learnt enough discipline to diet and exercise the weight off. If the rest of Cartman was as fit as his stomach, he might be worth considering again for the various school teams. It might pay him best here to treat the boy kindly.

"I have new sets of kit here Cartman - I'll sort you out," Coach Johnson retreated into his office with Cartman following. He opened a large cupboard and pulled out a t-shirt and shorts - they were new and still in their plastic bags. "You'll need a jock as well," the coach said - grabbing another bag off the top shelf.

Cartman was a little surprised at how helpful the coach was being, "Ah don't have enough money on me to pay for these coach," he tried to protest.

"I give them out free to anyone on one of the school teams Cartman," the coach explained - with only the slightest trace of a hint in his voice, "so I have lots of spare stuff lying about. If I have any left over at the end of the year, my budget for next year would be cut by the school board."

Cartman nodded - starting to understand.

"Is this why Kenneh," Eric started to say.

"McCormick got a set of free gym clothes from me at the start of the year." The coach started to show Eric out of the door, "In return he gives me his best effort every class. I expect you to do the same - do I make myself clear?"

"Yes coach," Eric answered - gathering up his jacket and old kit off the floor.

"Hurry up and get changed!" The coach shouted - directing his voice to everyone, not just Cartman. "I want everyone in the gymnasium inside five minutes.

Eric rushed to get changed. By this time everyone else was leaving the locker room or had already left. He was kind-of glad, not wanting everyone s first view of the new look Cartman to be while he was undressing. The jock fitted him fine - although he felt slightly embarrassed about wearing one. The shorts and t-shirt fitted him too. The only problem being that they were close-fitting and showed how thin and muscular he now was. In his own clothes the bagginess could be mistaken for weight - they were almost like a disguise. The new gym kit made him look like a sports jock - showing off his well muscled arms and legs. He resigned himself to the fact that his appearance would shock most of his class mates. Finally he pulled on his trainers and tightened the laces. He had deliberately slowed down - unable to control the nerves he was feeling. There was no way anyone, who knew him, could look at him without knowing that something had happened. Muscles aren't supposed to just appear overnight - OK his did but how could he tell anyone that? The weight loss wasn't such a concern - he'd been losing weight steadily for the last couple of years. He braced himself for a barrage of questions as he entered the gymnasium.

The coach had already gathered everyone around to tell them what they would be doing today. Cartman slipped in quietly and moved around to the back of the group. The class was shared with the girls - who had their own changing room and a female coach, Ms Thing, to supervise them. Ms Thing wasn't her real name, obviously, but that was the name she was cruelly dubbed with by the girls at school. They didn't appreciate that she liked sports, didn't care about being all hot and sweaty and never wore any make-up. Some of the girls had insinuated that the teacher was a lesbian - until it was pointed out to them that she was married with a young child. To Cartman it was just another example of how vindictive and bitchy the girls in his year were. Maybe Kyle was right about not dating yet - although he would never tell the Jewish boy that.

Butters issued a quiet, "Hey Eric," as Cartman manoeuvred to stand behind him.

They were to be split into four teams to play basketball and the schools four best players - Stan, Kyle, Token and Craig - were chosen as team captains. Their first pick had to be a girl.

Craig got to pick first and immediately said in his dead-pan voice, "Wendy."

"Dude!" Stan shouted immediately, "Not cool picking my girlfriend."

Craig shrugged his shoulders, "She's good at sports and super competitive. Why wouldn't I pick her?"

"Because she's my girlfriend and should be on my team," Stan answered like it was obvious.

"I'm not trying to date her Stan," Craig said calmly, "I just want her on my team for basketball."

Stan gave Craig a filthy look but let the team selections continue.

Token chose Red, Kyle chose Heidi and Stan chose Bebe - mainly because she was Wendy's best friend. Now Stan got to pick first in the next round. Logically he should have chosen on of the other boys who were good at basketball, like Clyde or Kenny, but instead he chose Tweek - deliberately to spite Craig.

"Why did you choose Tweek Stan?" Craig asked.

"Because it was my turn to pick - I can choose anyone I want, remember," Stan bit back. "Don't worry I'll make sure he gets plenty of game-time."

Tweek shrieked, "Oh Jesus," as he moved to stand behind Stan and next to Bebe.

Craig didn't respond - instead he flipped Stan the bird.

The captains also acted as coaches on each of their teams and got to move players on and off the benches. Craig always tried to pick his friend in these sorts of situations - so that he could keep him on the bench as much as possible. Tweek didn't react well to having fast-moving balls flung at him.

The picking continued with Token and Kyle choosing their friends Clyde and Kenny - Craig picked one of the other boys. Soon only Eric, Butters and the handicapable kids, Jimmy and Timmy, were left. Not that Jimmy or Timmy would be allowed to play - the school didn't have insurance for that. Instead they would act as cheerleaders to whichever team chose them.

It always pissed Cartman off that he wasn t picked much sooner. He knew that he wasn't the best at basketball but he was better than most of the girls and some of the guys picked in front of him. The four team captains knew that too but they also knew that Cartman was an ass. Someone who would piss-off his team-mates and cause disharmony.

Kyle sighed as he looked at the remaining players. He knew that he would have to pick Cartman or be accused by the Fat-ass later of something or other - probably something connected to his Jewish religion.

"I choose Cartman," Kyle said reluctantly - through gritted teeth. "You better not make me regret it."

Cartman moved forward cautiously - aware of the eyes following him. Murmurs of, "Oh shit," and, "he's ripped," filled the gym - quite a few jaws were hanging open.

"What the fuck have you done to yourself Cartman," Kyle was the first to recover from the shock.

"Ah've been loosing weight for some time Kahl," Cartman answered quickly, "ah've been exercising in secret too."

Kyle stared at the former Fat-ass in disbelief, "Those sorts of muscles take months of regular strenuous exercise."

"Your point being?" Cartman questioned.

"You're a lazy, fat, fuck and there's no way that you would stick to any exercise regime - unless you were forced into it by someone."

The other kids gasped and stepped back - expecting a typical Cartman and Kyle argument. Coach Johnson signalled Ms Thing to stay quiet - he was as curious as the rest about Cartmans sudden change from dud to stud.

"Well Kahl, obviously you're wrong and the proof is right in front of your eyes," Cartman stood his ground. If he kept silent there was no way anyone could prove otherwise.

"You've been taking illegal steroids or something," Kyle accused, "something that gives you muscles overnight."

Cartman raised an eyebrow - steroids, really? He would have scoffed at the idea but it was an explanation - of sorts. "Kahl steroids are only illegal if you take part in professional competitions. Doctors prescribe them to people with genuine medical conditions all the time," He wasn't admitting to anything but he was allowing his classmates to reach their own conclusions.

"Cartman's right," Coach Johnson stepped in to calm everybody down, "although taking unprescribed steroids is dangerous and not something anyone should do - it isn't illegal either. Unless you play for or are trying out for sports, then it gives you an unfair advantage, which is against the rules."

"But isn't it unfair to us now if Cartman's been using drugs," Kyle wasn't willing to give up.

The coach sighed, "Firstly Cartman hasn't admitted to anything and you shouldn't accuse him of something like that without proof. Secondly, even with steroids, you would still need to work-out a lot to get the sort of muscles your friend has. Thirdly he doesn't have any pimples or show any of the other visible signs of using steroids. And fourthly, he's on your team anyway - so why are you making such a big deal about this?"

Kyle clamped his mouth shut. The teams were all picked and everyone was glaring at him in various states of pissed-off. He couldn't help it though, when it came to Cartman, he got obsessive with things like this.

"This isn't over," Kyle whispered to Cartman as Stan and Token's teams took to the court.

They played with five players on court at any one time - one of which had to be a girl. The team captains could call for up to three time-outs to regroup or swap out players. Each game was for twenty minutes with a change of ends at half-time. The coaches liked to make each team play every other team for a total of six games. The teams would only be on the court half the time - playing three times each.

Stan did as he said he would and kept Tweek on court for most of the game - only switching him out near the end. Tweek was surprisingly good at rapid passes. As long as it wasn't directed towards his face, if someone threw the ball he would pass it off immediately to a team mate. His nervous twitches and shouts were enough to put anyone on Token's team off from marking him too closely.

In a tightly fought contest, Stan's team ended up winning by five points. Stan's big tactic was to play Bebe in defence where she would flirt outrageously and put guys off their shots. Most of the time she didn't even have to say anything, just jumping up against a boy and letting her assets do the rest was enough.

"You should play yourself in attack, Kahl, when we play against Stan's team," Cartman loudly suggested to the Jewish boy.

Kyle turned to glare at Cartman.

"Since your not interested in girls at all!" Cartman finished - his voice so loud that even the the players on the court could hear him.

"Shut the fuck up Cartman," Kyle angrily seethed in reply.

"Hey, ah was just giving my team captain some sound tactical advice," Cartman replied innocently, "it's not my fault if you don't want to hear it."

Kyle gritted his teeth. This was why no one ever wanted to pick Cartman.

Coach Johnson was indicating for Stan's team to switch out with Kyle's team.

Kyle smiled evilly. Just because the Fat-ass was no longer fat, it didn't mean that he had suddenly become good at sports.

"Cartman, you start at centre," Kyle instructed as he set out his team.

As the game started Cartman was surprised at how easy he found it. His reaction time was massively speeded up - making everyone appear to be moving in slow motion. In addition, his speed and strength were so amped up that he felt like he could take on Token's whole team single-handedly. He had to keep reminding himself to slow down. Remembering how he had gotten carried away while playing video games with Kyle the other night. He had always had some skills but now he was able to utilise every move and trick he'd ever seen used on a basketball court. It wasn't just copying what he'd seen either - he was able to combine mix and even create his own moves. Even though he was dampening down his abilities as much as possible - Eric was clearly the best player on the court. From the stands Coach Johnson was positively drooling.

At one point Kyle had stolen the ball and it had bounced over to Cartman - who just threw it away, casually over his shoulder, without even trying to do anything else.

"Don't just throw our chances to score away Cartman!" Kyle shouted. He stopped mid-rant as he heard the swish of the ball falling through the hoop for three points.

When they came off the court Kyle's team had won by a clear eighteen point margin and Cartman had been the only player to play the full twenty minutes. Despite this Eric was barely sweating as he took a seat on the benches.

The next match was between Stan's team and Craig's. A grudge match - for the two captains anyway.

At the tip-off Stan whispered to Craig, "You're going down bitch."

Craig responded by showing Stan his finger, before out-leaping him for the ball. They spent the rest of the first half slamming into each other and fouling at ever given opportunity. At half time Coach Johnson told them that they were both benched for the second half. Even from there the two boys rivalry was clear. In the end Craig's team earned a narrow two point victory.

The next match up was Craig against Token - with Token looking for a win to avoid the ribbing he would get from his friends if his team lost all three matches. As it was - Clyde, who was normally really good, was clearly having an off day. Half-way through the match match he slipped on the court, landing on his face and giving himself a bloody nose. No one had been near him when he fell, it was a complete accident. Ms Thing escorted a crying Clyde to the nurses office and Token's team ended up losing by six points.

Stan and Kyle's teams were called to the court for their game. Kyle decided to start with his strongest possible line-up. With himself, Kenny and Cartman all starting - along with Kevin and Heidi. Stan stuck with his plan of playing a girl in defence - to put the guys, trying to score, off. Of course Kenny decided it was his duty to mark her closely.

Coach Johnson, the kids on the benches and those in the teams not playing - watched in awe as Kyle's team started to wrack up the points. It wasn't just that Cartman had the skills and seemed to be everywhere on the court. It was also that he could find passes where passes shouldn't have been and he was anticipating the moves of his team-mates and his opponents. This was especially true in the cases of Kenny and Kyle - Cartman seemed to know where they would be moving to next and played accordingly. By half-time Kyle's team were twelve points clear and easily controlling the game. The Jewish boy decided to bench himself and Kenny - to keep them both fresh for their last match. He also wanted to secretly watch more of Cartman in action.

During the second half Stan tried personally marking Cartman out of the game. When that failed he tried putting two players on him. That also failed and it opened up the court elsewhere. Kyle watched from the bench as his team scored twelve unanswered points in a row. Cartman was amazing, it was like watching a pro basketball star.

Stan's team came off the court pretty broken after losing by twenty-eight points. He was shocked by how well Cartman was playing but stopped to speak to Kyle as his friend resumed the court to start for the last match.

"Your team and Craig's have both won two games each," Stan's eyes said more than words.

Kyle clapped his best friend's shoulder as he walked onto the court, "We'll win this one for you Stan."

Stan didn't say anything else as he took his seat, three rows up and close to the centre line. He used the towel he had left there to mop his brow. His thoughts drifted as he watched the game start. There was definitely something going on with Cartman. More than him just losing weight because his mother wasn't around much and he was having to look after himself. The moves that Cartman was pulling off - Stan had only ever seen them done by the pros on TV. Stan had sensed that the former Fat-ass was holding back when they were playing. It was as if Cartman started to react, then paused, before allowing himself to move. Stan knew that at some point soon he, Kyle and Kenny would have to confront Cartman and get him to tell them what was going on. For now though Stan just sat and watched as Cartman, single-handedly, took Craig's team apart.

Kyle had also noticed that Cartman was playing within himself and decided to motivate his friend/enemy with a barrage of insults and put-downs. Cartman's eyes clouded over with rage and he started playing with less restraint. In the end Kyle's team came off the court with a healthy sixteen point victory. As everyone headed for the locker room, Stan pulled Kyle and Kenny to one side.

"There's something going on with Cartman," Stan whispered to his two friends - stating what was obvious to them all.

"You think?" Kenny questioned sarcastically.

"That maths test the other day," Kyle speculated, "I think he really knew the answers."

"I thought he used a teachers copy of the text book to cheat," Stan looked puzzled.

"And he told me that his eyes turned silver because of eye-drops," Kenny added.

"We've got to be careful," Kyle pointed out, "We don't know what's happening with Cartman - it could be something dangerous."

The other two nodded, this wasn't a game.

"We should meet up today - after school," Stan suggested.

"What about Cartman?" Kenny asked.

"He's got detention," Stan answered.

Kyle and Kenny confirmed their agreement with the plan before they all rushed off to shower and change.

* * *

><p>Cartman sat in detention, thinking. He was stuck here for a hour, for something he hadn't even done. Not that this was the first time he'd been punished unfairly. Every time he had a fight with the Jew, the school always took the straight A student Kyle's side. It was almost enough to tempt him into using his new brain power to up his grades. The idea of rubbing better grades than Kyle's in the Jews face was seductive. The know-it-all day-walker deserved to be taken down a peg or two. Sadly Eric knew that the pleasure wouldn't be worth the aggravation. He didn't want to draw any adult attention to his powers.<p>

After gym class Coach Johnson had indicated that he wanted to speak with him. Luckily he had been able to brush the coach off by claiming, truthfully, that he had a detention to get to. Even dialling his abilities down, Eric knew that he'd been too good. Especially near the end, when he had been so caught up in the game that he had started to push it harder than he should have. Still Kyle had given him an idea. When the Jewish boy had mentioned steroids he had scoffed at the idea. Now that comment had given Cartman the basis of a plan. If he told the coach that he had used the drugs to help him loose weight and put on muscle - there would be no way that the coach could push him onto any of the school teams. Sure he'd get a lecture about steroid use from Coach Johnson and maybe even Mr Mackey - but that was better than all the attention he would attract if he was playing competitively for the school. As the coach had pointed out, those sorts of drugs were only illegal if you were using them to gain an unfair advantage in competition. Cartman smiled, without knowing it, the Jew had helped him out - big time.

Eric spent the rest of detention doing his homework and reading. The homework, in actual fact, only took him a quarter of the one hour detention. He then spent some time writing notes and information for his history project with Butters. He would probably finish up all the written parts tonight - only leaving the costumes for his friend. Something Butters was unsurprisingly good at.

To fill in his time for the rest of the hour, Cartman started to doodle and scribble onto a sheet of paper. He knew that his friends would want to confront him, sooner or later, about what was happening to him. Unlike the adults of South Park, who were only too ready to believe his lies. He would have to tell them something, if he lied again he would probably loose them as friends.

Cartman made a quick exit once his detention ended - making a mental note to bring something to read for next time. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now. He dumped all of his completed homework into his locker, leaving his school bag almost empty. The backpack sat loosely on his shoulders, despite his best efforts to adjust the straps. He ended up running most of the way home - only slowing to a walk when he turned onto Bonanza Street near to Stan and Kyle's houses. The last thing he needed was to draw any more attention to himself. Eric breathed a sigh of relief, his friends weren't anywhere about. He had thought that they might be waiting somewhere, planning to ambush him and force him to tell them the truth. At least he could have one night without having to fend off their questions.

Even before he entered the house, Cartman knew that his mother was home. Her car was parked loosely across the driveway and music could be clearly heard from the street. There was a pick-up truck and an old car also parked close to the house, leaving Eric to guess that his mother wasn't alone. He approached the front door quietly - Eric was always nervous about entering the house when his mother was entertaining. Thankfully, most of the time she was already upstairs with her guests. Sometimes she did use the living room though and it was on these occasions that he had to run the gauntlet of his mothers 'boyfriends'. The best ones just ignored him - maybe making a comment about how Liane was too young and pretty to have a son so old. The embarrassing ones, the ones that made Eric cringe, would try to talk to him - call him sport or son. It always felt pretty creepy that they were trying to befriend him but it was easiest to just keep his head down and try to be polite - as much as it killed him inside. Then there were the boyfriends who teased him, insulted him or hit him, they never lasted long. Most of them were already up to something illegal - usually drug related. It never took much for Cartman to get rid of them - usually a sly overhearing of a few phone conversations, followed by a tip-off to the police was enough. If they weren't actually doing anything illegal, Cartman wasn't averse to planting drugs, and worse, in their car. There were other types, of course, but Eric tried not to think about them too much.

Cartman found that the front door was unlocked as he pushed in cautiously. The smell of drugs and sweat hit him as he stepped quietly into the house. His mother had made use of the living room before taking the party upstairs. Eric closed the front door - taking note of all the mess in the room. The coffee table and floor were littered with empty beer cars and bottles. Small traces of powder could clearly be seen on the table, where Liane and her guests had snorted up lines of cheap coke. Eric ignored it all - he just wanted to grab some food from the kitchen and retreat to his bedroom until they were all gone. it was the safest course of action. He could tell that his mother had also been in the kitchen - cupboards had been left flung open and some of his food had been eaten. He quickly grabbed a plate and used it to rest upon while he made some sandwiches. He also grabbed an empty plastic bottle, that had once held generic brand soda, quickly filling it with tap water before topping it off with dilute orange juice. As he passed back through the living room he noted that his mom had turned the central heating on high. Cartman scowled angrily - it wasn't as if she paid the electricity bills. He turned the thermostat down to a more reasonable temperature - making a mental note to shut it off, if possible, when he got up in the morning. He also turned off the stereo - he doubted whether his mom and her guests would even notice.

Eric crept upstairs, by the sounds emanating from her room, his mom was entertaining at least three men. He used to get angry when he heard such noises, now he just ignored it. Only grateful that he could retreat into his own room unimpeded. He often wondered what he had done to deserve a life like this.

Eric always felt safer in his room - once he had locked the door and slid both of his bolts home anyways. He placed the sandwiches and drink down before stripping off his backpack and jacket. Opening a draw in his desk, he took out a cheap mp3 player and switched it on - plugging the ear-buds into his ears.

Cartman used to own all the best and latest electronic gadgets. Sadly his mom had sold them all years ago to help pay for her drug and alcohol driven lifestyle. Luckily he had been able to but himself a cheap second-hand laptop off his schools computer exchange program. People would donate their old computers to the school. The hard-drives would be wiped and child-friendly software, along with the operating system and basic office software, installed. These computers were then made available for purchase to students in low income families. Eric qualified because he was in a single parent household. Normally the school would want to speak to the individual parent involved. Fortunately Cartman was able to discourage this by reminding Mr Mackey, the person in charge of the program, about his own dalliances with Eric's mother. The laptop Eric got was a good one. It had formerly been owned by Bebe Stevens - Eric recognised the way she covered everything she owned with glittery stickers. She was known for getting the newest and latest technology as soon as it came out - so her old laptop wasn't really that old. All in all it was a nice piece of kit and Cartman was grateful for it.

Eric quickly went on-line, searching for material to use in his and Butters history report. He found lots of artists renditions of scenes - obviously there were no cameras back in those days. He also copied all the historical accounts he could find into word processing documents - he did this rather than print-off because it didn't cost anything. He stopped only to eat his sandwiches and drink some of his orange juice. After reading all the source material, Eric composed the report. Typing quickly he was soon able to finish - adding numerous pictures from his source documents. The finished document ran to twelve pages, including endnotes citing all his reference materials - he didn't print it off though, that would be done at Butters house. He then made a short slide-show of images to be shown to the class - this included actual photos of the tools used to torture the victims. Finally he made a photo gallery file for Butters, full of picture taken from film and TV dramas about the period. Butters would find it useful when it came to assembling any costumes they would wear. Everything was stored on his computer, in a folder labeled 'The Spanish Inquisition'. Eric transferred a copy of the folder onto his small pen-drive before shutting the laptop down. The pen-drive was tucked away in his bag and finally he was able to get ready for bed. It no longer bothered him that a homework project, designed to take two people a couple of weeks, had only taken him a couple of hours to complete. His new abilities were becoming a natural part of him and he was using them without even realising.

Eric switched off his music and pulled out an ear-bud. He could hear snoring coming out of his mom's room. Two of the men had left but the third was apparently too drunk and had decided to stay the night. Eric quickly got changed before venturing out to use the bathroom.

As he returned to his room , relocking the door and sliding the bolts home, Cartman quietly mumbled to himself, "Ah hope they're gone in the morning."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> This was originally supposed to be part of chapter 3 but it would have been way too long so I split it. The next chapter is still being written so it may be a while before I update again._

_I'm not an expert on basketball. I know the basic rules of the game, enough to have fun playing with friends - but in no way am I familiar with all the terminology used in the TV commentarys. If I got something wrong or the description of the games played seemed a little sketchy, I apologise in advance._

_In no way do I advocate the use of steroids - unless under the direction of a doctor or other medical professional. Also Remember that Coach Johnson works full-time for South Park middle school and, like most of the staff there, is basically incompetent._

_The idea of a computer exchange program, run through schools, is something I just came up with as I was writing this. Does this sort of thing actually exist in schools? Personally I think it should, as it could help a lot of underprivileged kids._

_Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 05**

**Thursday - Cyber-Hacker part 1**

Eric was disappointed to wake up and sense that his mother and the man who had spent the night were still in the house. Even as he started to sit up in bed, he could hear them talking in the kitchen. His newly enhanced hearing allowing to make out every word of their inane chatter. His mother was cooking the man a breakfast - something she hadn't done for him in years. On top of that insult, they were eating his food - the food that he'd bought and paid for. He didn't begrudge his mom so much - although the money he took from her rarely covered her share of the bills. He did, however, begrudge the man, a stranger, eating his food. Getting the attention from his mom that he had been denied for so long. Cartman hadn't even met the man and he hated him.

Eric climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed. He didn't want to have to face the two adults downstairs, so he would have to do without breakfast this morning - unless he had more money in his bank account than he thought and was able to buy himself something. He had regularly climbed out of his bedroom window, in the past, to avoid awkward confrontations. The first time he did it he forgot to unbolt his bedroom door. Having to re-enter the house through his window, so he could get into his bedroom. Eric looked at his alarm clock, he would give his mom until his usual setting-off time to have shown the man out. He sat back, on his bed, and waited.

Eric was just deciding to give them five more minutes when he heard his mom showing the man to the door. Her silly, childish voice saying goodbye to the man like he was a husband or long-term boyfriend - rather than a cheap and sleazy, one night only, hook-up. The way she was acting, anyone who didn't know her would think that she was a housewife waving her husband off to work. She even giggled, like an annoying cheerleader with no brains.

The second the man truck started backing out, Eric zipped out of his room - not forgetting to lock the door. There wasn't time for cooked meals, or even a bowl of cereal - so when he came into the kitchen, Eric made straight for the cupboard where he kept his supply of cereal bars. Of course he'd passed by his mother - who was still standing at the open front door, waving off the man. She hadn't noticed him. The last time she'd paid him any real attention was when she'd tried to introduce him to her pimp. Cartman wasn't having any of that - he'd guessed what they were planning and move swiftly to cut them off before they even started. Eric had spent the week at Kenny's house - waiting for the police to act on the large dossier of evidence, about the pimp's criminal activities, that he had sent them. Even the incompetent South Park police couldn't fail to get a conviction, with all the evidence Eric had given them.

Cartman was annoyed to find that his brand new box of cereal bars was gone from its place in the cupboard. He suspected that they were no more - eaten by the men who had enjoyed his mother's company last night. He made a mental note to start keeping them in his bedroom in future. Quickly checking around the room; the bread, eggs and milk were all used up as well. Cartman cursed under his breath - at least he had that voucher from the store. It would pay for a big shop.

"Eric, poopsie," Liane had followed him into the kitchen, "have you been taking mommy's money again?"

Cartman turned around to face his mom. Her eyes were only slightly glazed - this was one of her better, more rational, days.

"Ah only took the money to pat the bills mom," as much as it sickened him, Eric tried to sound as cute and innocent as she always deluded herself into thinking he was. "Ah know how busy you are, working hard, so ah took some money to pay the electricity bill."

Liane rocked back and forth on her feet - clearly trying to process his words in her addled brain, "Don't take mommy's money, without asking, again sweetie."

Eric tried again, "Ah used it to pay the bills."

"Mommy pays the bills, poopsykins," Liane informed him.

Cartman sighed, he knew deep inside that there was no point talking any further to his mom. She probably wouldn't remember the conversation, once he was out of the door, anyway.

"Ah've got to go mom," he told her, "ah don't want to be late for school."

Liane didn't really acknowledge his words, so he stepped around her and made his way to the door. Eric didn't bother to shut off the central heating, his mom would only have turned it back on. There was every chance that he'd missed the bus and would have to walk to school. At least it would give him an excuse for avoiding his friends a bit longer. It wasn't a great start to the day but, at least, his mom had been fairly lucid - for once.

As he suspected, the bus-stop was empty when Eric came to it - telling him that his friends were already gone. He started the walk to school. With his new abilities he could have ran all the way there - but then he would arrive before the bus and that would have just brought more questions. It wasn't just a matter of telling them any more - it was how he would tell them and where. It needed to be some place where they could shout and argue without being interrupted. His house was probably best, even though they had stopped hanging out there since his mom started getting worse.

Unlike the school bus, Eric was able to take a much more direct route. Cutting through South Park main street was not only the quickest route but also allowed him the opportunity to get some money out of the cash machine. He didn't have a credit card but he did have a card that allowed him to use the hole-in-the-wall to access the money in his account.

While pushing his card in and typing in his pin code, Cartman couldn't help but think about all the rich people who wasted money on ridiculous things - like diamond-studded collars for their lap dogs. Most of them hadn't done a thing to earn their money, having it handed to them from their rich families. A few thousand dollars would replace all the worn out appliances in the kitchen, buy him new clothes and maybe a new backpack. To one of those spoilt rich people a few thousand was a flashy designer outfit that would be worn once then never be worn again.

Even as his hand pressed flat against the machine Cartman's mind seemed to press forwards and connect with something. Eric could see what appeared to be green flowing energy, moving back and forth. He started to panic, wondering what was happening, before it all clicked and he realised - the cash machine and the thoughts he'd had. Maybe his mind was linked, in some way, to the machine and through it the whole banking system. The thought actually calmed him - if this was another of his new abilities then he would soon get a handle on it. As he concentrated, Eric could feel the flows of money and recognise them. Senses other than sight, sound, smell, touch and taste were being fed into him. He could concentrate on any transaction or store of money and know everything about it instantly - it was as if he could follow every transaction happening all over the world. He soon identified his own bank account as a small, sad blob of dull green - tucked in a corner and currently inactive. Reaching out with his mind, he let imaginary hands touch the light and feel it. As he watched the movements of light, some of them appeared different - dirty even. He followed a few, back and forth. It was no mean feat to identify the people involved in these transactions but it did get easier and faster the more times he did it. Some were known criminals, their full criminal records sprang instantly into Eric's mind when he identified them. Others had no criminal record, they were the ones who had never been identified by the police. The majority of those were white-collar criminals - perpetrating clever acts of money manipulation that seemed legal under even the closest scrutiny. Cartman also found the seeds of corruption in hundreds, if not thousands, of secret accounts - many hidden off-shore or through dummy company's. From cops on the take and small town public officials, all the way up to senators and congressmen in Washington DC.

Cartman paused, considering his options. He was living in poverty, as were so many kids like him. Would it be so wrong to take money from criminals? Wouldn't it be poetic justice to rob from those who had chosen to steal from others? Even as he thought about it, Eric created a node - a place to tap into and store all the corrupt money he was seeing. The node would only be visible to him. It would only appear to exist when he was there and it was in use. The rest of the time it would be invisible and dormant. Eric linked the node to an illegal transaction - sucking the money from the accounts at both ends and draining them dry. He did it again, then hundreds, then all the illegal accounts he could reach. Using the information he was gathering to identify secret accounts across the world. He took everything - why shouldn't he? They deserved it. It was a rush, an almost euphoric feeling and it made him feel light-headed.

Cartman stopped and pulled back. The node didn't appear any different - filled as it was with cash. The banking system was still running smoothly. It appeared like nothing had happened. He concentrated and adjusted things so that when he withdrew any money from his account, through a cash machine, he would always receive one hundred times the amount he requested. Then he tapped the node to donate money to children's charities all across the world. The donations were untraceable - as were his own, personal, alterations.

Eric gasped in shock and felt himself breathe again. He was no longer in the system. He was, once again, staring at the front of the bank's cash machine. Everything that had happened had taken place in the period of just one breath. He looked at the large amount of money that had slid out of the machine. On the screen his account displayed that he had only withdrawn twenty dollars - in his hands were two thousand. He quickly pocketed the money - his mind reaching quickly into the machine, once more, as he withdrew his bank card. This time he was checking the bank's security video to ensure that it showed nothing untoward.

Cartman could hardly believe what had just happened. He wanted to jump around and shout for joy. He would never have to worry about money ever again. He restrained himself though, not wanting to draw attention. he kept his head down and walked away quickly, the money feeling like it was glowing through the fabric of his jacket pocket.

After walking for a while, Eric ducked between two buildings and pulled out the money. He knew that the only way anyone could find out about it would be if his own body language gave him away. He put twenty dollars back into his side pocket and zipped it up. Opening up his coat, he put the rest of the money into an inside pocket held closed with a Velcro tab. The money felt safer there and not as conspicuous to him. He fastened his coat back up and hurried along the street - deciding to call into the coffee shop and pick himself up a muffin and hot drink for breakfast.

As he entered the shop he could almost feel the coffee aroma as it hit him. Tweak's was almost an institution in South Park. Even though the coffee tasted like a blend of mud and diarrhoea, it was still heavily frequented by the townspeople. Both Mr Tweak and his wife worked at the store and their son, Tweek Tweak, also did shifts - fitted in around his schedule of school, homework and paranoia attacks.

The man smiled pleasantly as Eric approached the counter, "Good morning young man, welcome to Tweak's coffee, how can I help you today?"

"Can I get a hot chocolate and a large breakfast muffin to go," Eric placed his order quickly - reaching for the twenty in his pocket.

"Running late for school eh?" Mr Tweak commented as he poured the hot chocolate into a cup and pressed a lid onto it. "Tweek is running late as well." He turned around and shouted through the open arched doorway - leading to the private part of the building, "Tweek! Are you ready, if you don't come now I won't be able to give you a lift to school and who knows what might happen on your way there."

Cartman watched as the small twitchy boy, known as Tweek, made his appearance. With his badly buttoned-up shirt and massively messy bed-head hair, the boy was almost an institution in the halls at school. Over the years Tweek's classmates had learned to tune out his twitching and occasional, random shouts - ignore his paranoid behaviour and the way he obsessed about the littlest of things. In fact Tweek Tweak was one of the most well liked kids in school. He rarely got bullied, it would be like trying to hurt a mewling kitten, and those foolish enough to try soon found themselves on the end of a beat-down from Tweek's friends and all the girls in class. Even the hardest of hearts thought the boy was borderline adorable.

"Hey Tweek," Eric said as he watched the blonde filling up a massive, tartan checked, Thermos with coffee.

Surprisingly, for someone who was know for shaking all the time, Tweek's hands were still and firm as he poured the coffee. "What are you doing here Cartman?" He asked - glancing around the store-front area, as if looking for Cartman's usual friends. "You're not planning to drag me off on some crazy adventure, are you?"

Eric laughed, "No Tweek ah'm just running late. Ah've not had any breakfast and ah missed the bus is all."

"I can give you a lift with Tweek if you want," Mr Tweak offered.

Cartman looked across at Tweek to ensure his approval before accepting the lift, "That would be great, thank you sir."

"It's no problem but remember; if you wake up with a fresh pot of Tweak's coffee it sets you up for the day, ready to face any trials or adversity."

"Dad," Tweek mumbled - slightly annoyed and embarrassed.

"Ah yes Tweak's coffee," continued Mr Tweek - oblivious to his son's feelings, "the smooth aroma that reminds you of home. The rich taste that sends your taste buds on a journey filled with delight. A treasure to be savoured."

Tweek grabbed his dad by the shoulder and started pulling him out of the shop. "Mom, we're going now!" He shouted behind him.

Eric took a sip of his chocolate before hurrying to catch up to the smaller boy - who was pushing his father towards a brown sedan.

"You can ride shotgun if you want Cartman," Tweek said as his father unlocked the car.

"Is there any reason?" Eric asked as the climbed in.

"I never sit up front," Tweek answered, "statistically the safest seat is the rear one behind the driver."

Eric just nodded as he pulled on the seatbelt, "Ah really appreciate the lift Tweek," he said - thanking the other boy, even though it had been Tweek's father's suggestion.

"That's OK," Tweek hunched back into his seat, "just don't freak out with 'roid rage at me."

Cartman sighed - apparently Kyle's suggestion, of how he had turned so buff so quickly, was now widely believed to be fact. Despite the lack of evidence, proof or admission of guilt.

"Ah'm fine," Eric tried to reassure, "you have nothing to worry about."

The rest of the short ride was taken in silence.

"Thank you for the lift Tweek, Mr Tweak," Eric said as he got out of the car.

The bus had only just arrived and Cartman could see his friends exiting in the distance. He didn't want to speak with them just yet. Fortunately they hadn't spotted him and he was able to slip quietly away, entering the school and quickly making for his locker. They probably thought that he was skipping or, having missed the bus, wouldn't arrive until later.

It didn't take him long to switch out the books in his bag. He had maths first thing this morning and Mr Garrison was usually either hung-over or pissed off about something - the teacher's mood, normally, not improving until after mid-morning. Eric remembered that he would have to speak to the teacher regarding his make-up test. It was probably best to go see Garrison now, as he was also their home room teacher for seventh grade. It gave him a plausible excuse for avoiding his friends.

"Mr Garrison," Cartman said - knocking on the door of the classroom.

"Ah Eric," the teacher answered, "I was meaning to speak to you."

Cartman waited in the doorway.

"I'm taking detention tonight, so you can do your make-up test."

"Thank you Mr Garrison," Cartman said as politely as possible.

"Just so you know," Garrison said - before mumbling under his breath, "you little shit." He then returned to his normal volume, "I had to create this test myself - Mackey told me that I'm relying too much on the tests in the text books. I've made sure it's a lot harder than the one the other day. I hope you've taken the extra time to study."

Eric blinked, this is the reason why everybody hates Mr Garrison. He felt like zapping the teacher with a lightning bolt.

"And Eric," Garrison smiled evilly, "if you don't get, at least, a C grade - I'll mark you as fail for the whole semester."

Garrison was clearly hoping for some sort of response. Maybe he had expected Cartman to appeal to him or try some sort of mind game. Instead Eric just nodded.  
>"Ah'll do my best Mr Garrison."<p>

Others were starting to arrive at the classroom now so Eric went to take his seat.

"You won't be able to cheat your way out of this one," the teacher said as a final retort.

"Ah won't have to," Cartman said to himself as the room filled up.

Eric only gave home-room and the subsequent maths lesson enough attention to be aware of what was going on. It wasn't as if he didn't already know more about the subject than the teacher. Instead he thought about the money hidden inside his pocket and how he would spend it. He also thought about his friends and what he was going to say to them. He was acutely aware of the stares they were giving him - Kyle's seemed hate-filled and at the other extreme Butters' seemed full of concern. Somewhere between the truth and an outright lie lay the ideal words to get them off his back.

Cartman tried to rush off to English class when the bell went. He really didn't want to have the big conversation with his friends in a school corridor. Unfortunately his friends had the same idea and there were three of them, well four if you counted Butters - who just stood behind the other three nervously rubbing his knuckles together.

"Cartman are you trying to avoid us?" Kyle asked. Of course the Jew was the spokesman for the confrontation.

"A little bit," Eric admitted - hoping his honesty would set them back slightly.

"There's something going on with you that you aren't telling us about," Stan spoke in a more conciliatory tone.

"Yes," Cartman answered with one word.

"Are you gonna tell us what it is?" Kenny asked - reaching out to pat his friends shoulder.

"No!" Cartman reacted instinctively by snapping out before thinking for a second, "Not here anyways."

"When? Lunchtime?" Kyle asked - pressing for a committed time.

"Ah have a piano lesson scheduled," Eric answered honestly. "After school at my house. Ah promise you that ah'll tell you as much as ah can."

"OK, we can live with that," Stan replied. Kyle on the other hand still looked pissed off.

"Can you guys at least try to act normal around me for the rest of the day?" Cartman requested.

"How normal can we be if we can't call you Fat-ass any more?" Kenny joked.

Cartman just shrugged and turned to head off towards English class - but his improved hearing picked up Kyle muttering something under his breath.

"We could change it to Hot-ass."

Eric's eyebrows raised. That was certainly something he wasn't expecting.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> Where Cartman compares his mom to a brain-dead cheerleader: I hope no-one takes this personally. Cartman's view of cheerleaders probably comes from watching films and TV._

_Seventh grade is usually twelve to thirteen years, yes? Not being American I wasn't completely sure._

_Princess-of-Your-Doom95: Because the characters are younger than I usually write them, the Kyman slash will be much milder and they'll be less of it. I hope that this doesn't spoil your enjoyment of this story._

_Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 06**

**Thursday - Cyber-Hacker part 2**

Eric Cartman didn't hurry as he walked home from school. Not that he dawdled. He just walked normally - well normally for any normal person. He was still adjusting to the fact that he wasn't normal - it was taking some getting used to.

His lunchtime piano lesson, with a girl in fifth grade called Elizabeth, had helped him take his mind off the problems facing him for a while. Music allowed him to relax - even when played badly by someone who, clearly, couldn't be bothered to practice. Although he did wince at the bum notes. Eric had been tempted to try manipulating the girl - get her to think that being able to play well would get all the boys chasing after her and make all her friends jealous In the end he had decided against it. What did it matter to him whether she worked hard or slacked off? Kids have a lot to deal with in their lives. Being still a kid himself, Eric could appreciate that school, friends, family and homework sucked up a whole lot of time and energy. Sometimes you just need to relax and have fun. Elizabeth's mother was the one pushing her to learn the piano. A typical mother trying to live out her own thwarted dreams vicariously through the life of her daughter. Not considering, or even caring, that her daughter had dreams of her own.

Eric had paid little attention during his afternoon lessons. Instead using the time to design, in his mind, a supercomputer - able to function independently of any operator. He also planned out the technical details on how a global protection system could be set up and installed in secret - combining a protective shield for the planet with a series of independent weapons platforms to repel intruders into the solar system.

The more he thought about things though, the more he started to question decisions made by the government and agencies like NASA. It was almost as if they were deliberately trying to slow down technological progress. Take NASA as an example - the obvious next step after the moon landings would have been to build a permanent space station, with rotational gravity, orbiting the Earth. Rotational gravity was easy to create. All you had to do was wrap a chain around the outside circumference and drive it using solar electricity. The space station would then turn in the opposite direction - all be it much slower. Once you had artificial gravity, permanent human occupation and plants to grow for oxygen and food were easy. NASA and the US government have had the skills and technology to build something like that since the mid 1970's. The fact that they had, instead, chose to blow their budgets on the pointless space shuttle program was mind-numbingly stupid. Or was it stupid though? Eric could feel his mind grasping at the edges of an idea - one that was too horrible to contemplate.

Cartman shook his head, he had other things to worry about right now. Exactly how much could he tell his friends? How would the four of them react? How far could he trust them with his secret?

Eric decided to get some pizza at Shakeys as he walked past. His mom had used up most of the food he'd bought and he didn't feel up to shopping for groceries. It didn't take long to place his order and while he waited, Eric decided to whiz through his homework. It only took him twenty minutes and his order, a medium sized pepperoni and a large cola, had arrived mid-way through. It was not the most gourmet of meals but something Eric had not been able to do for a long time. As he sat there he could hear some people talking about the chaos happening on the news. He wasn't sure but suspected that his little financial transactions, this morning, were now being discussed by the media. He didn't feel any guilt from his actions but he was nervous about them being traced back to him. The last couple of pizza slices, sitting on his plate, had become unappetising - but they were food and he had become accustomed to not wasting food over the last few years. He called the waitress over and requested a bag, to take them home. He could always warm them up, in the microwave, for breakfast tomorrow - if Kenny didn't get hold of the bag. Eric thanked the waitress and left her a big tip before heading out the door. He wasn't usually so generous, with his money, but things had changed and he felt it only right to share the wealth.

As he walked the rest of the way home, Eric couldn't help but look out for his friends. He half-expected to see them camped on his door step, waiting for him to show up. Then again, they knew he had a detention. It was more logical that they would go home, do their homework and have a meal - before coming over to his house. It would give him time to clean up, from his mother and her guests, before they arrived.

Eric was revealed to see that his mom's car was missing from the drive, when he got home. The front room was in the same state as it was when he had left that morning. After quickly taking his bag upstairs and throwing it onto his bed, with his jacket - Eric set to cleaning the house. He tried not to think about how the furniture got moved - but sofas don't just jump six inches across the room. There was spilt beer on the cushions and other, more questionable, stains. Sighing dramatically, Eric fetched the vacuum out of the stair cupboard. He would have to spend the next hour cleaning, before his friends arrived.

It was during the cleaning that Eric found the first down-side to his new abilities. He was now able to, easily, identify every stain and spill. He could also see far more of them than ever before. The vacuum and a cleaning cloth just didn't do the trick any more. He was internally debating the merits of buying a steam cleaner when the doorbell rang.

"Hey guys," Eric said in a resigned voice, as he opened the door.

His friends had decided to all arrive together - probably meeting up before-hand. Eric didn't know if this was a good thing or not. On the one hand, he would only have to explain what was going on once. On the other hand, he was outnumbered and having questions firing from multiple directions wouldn't help.

"Cartman," Kyle replied in acknowledgement as he entered.

The other three didn't speak but Butters gave Eric a sad smile as he passed him in the doorway.

"Ah was just cleaning up a bit," Eric admitted - feeling embarrassed as he threw the dust cloth out of his hands. "My mom had some guests over last night."

Three of the four boys nodded - they knew what that meant. Butters though, was too naive to understand the meaning behind the words and took it at face value.

"You might not want to sit there on the sofa," Eric told them - just as Stan was about to drop down.

Stan pulled himself away, a disgusted look on his face, before shifting across to sit in the middle.

"Spilt beer," Cartman explained, "ah cleaned it as much as ah could but," he shrugged and let himself tale-off.

Kyle nodded - he had managed to claim the only chair that looked reasonably clean, "If you want, I can ask my mom about you borrowing her steam cleaner."

"That would be kewl," Eric answered - still nervous and wondering how long the small-talk would last before they really started talking.

"So Cartman," Kenny said calmly - the poor boy had discovered the doggy bag and was chomping down on the left-over pizza, "how long have you had superpowers?"

Eric blinked, barely noticing the other boys reactions, Kenny had figured it all out. Kenny and his amazing intuition. He never had a chance of keeping it secret.

"Just a few days," Eric finally answered. There was no point in trying to hide anything now. All he could hope for was for his friends to keep calm and give him time to explain.

The silence in the room was unnerving. Nobody knew what to say. For Stan and Kyle there was disbelief and scepticism. Butters was too nervous to disrupt the silence. Kenny was too busy eating pizza and enjoying the stunned faces of his friends after he dropped his verbal bomb. Finally, Cartman didn't want to say anything - he knew that he had to explain things but wasn't sure how to start.

"Stop being stupid Kenny," Kyle finally said - although he didn't sound too convinced, "Cartman doesn't have superpowers."

Kenny scrunched up the, now empty, paper bag and glared at Kyle. Butters backed up a few paces.

"Kyle's right," Stan added - backing up his best friend, "we're too old to be playing stupid super hero games any more."

Kenny turned his glare to Stan. He rarely made pronouncements like this - but when he did he was usually right.

Cartman knew that the easiest way to get there attention was with a demonstration. He did this by raising his right hand, palm upwards, and creating a ball of lightning. Holding it and letting its glow light his face.

"Ah have powers," Cartman spoke bluntly, "now shut up if you want to know how ah got them."

They dropped into a stunned silence and allowed Eric to speak. he went on to explain how he woke up, just a few days ago, and started to notice changes. When Cartman got to the part about the dream, Kyle interrupted him.

"Cartman, this is bullshit," the Jewish boy declared, "I don't know how or why you're faking this. Maybe you're wanting the attention because your life is so crappy but you didn't need to resort to this."

"Kyle I dunno," Stan interrupted, "some of the things he's done over the last couple of days."

"No Stan," Kyle snapped, "why would anyone chose Cartman to be a hero? He's an ignorant, selfish, racist, Fat-ass. He treats people like things - objects for his amusement."

"From what he's told us," Stan tried to reason with his best friend, "they didn't have much choice. It was either Cartman or nothing."

"Aye!" Cartman didn't appreciate Stan's comment - it sounded too much like an insult.

"So you believe this is real?" Kyle questioned his friend.

"I'm willing to let Cartman prove himself - if he can," Stan replied. "If he does have all the abilities he says he does, any tests we set him should be easy."

"Tests?" Cartman asked - it wasn't something he had expected. Then again, given some of his past behaviour, maybe he should have.

"Don't worry," Kenny reassured his friend, "we'll just ask you to fly or something."

"Fly?" Cartman was stunned - hadn't he just explained to them how he got his powers and what they were? In no way had he suggested that he could fly. "You want me to fly?" He couldn't help but ask again.

Kenny nodded, smiling, before moving to the TV and switching it on, "It's OK to watch Terrance and Phillip here, isn't it?"

Eric shrugged his shoulders and went into the kitchen. There was very little in the way of food remaining but he could fix himself a drink of orange squash and seriously think about what Kenny had asked of him. Although he couldn't really fly by himself, it would be possible to make something that allowed him to fly. Remembering some of his favourite super hero cartoons - he knew that he could, given enough time and the right equipment, replicate some of their technological ideas. He sat down and started to plan.

In the front room Stan, Kyle and Kenny's initial anger - on finding out that the Terrance and Phillip show had been cancelled due to news coverage of a global, financial crisis - had dimmed to a worrying calm. They sat and watched as experts explained how people, all over the world, had been robbed of all their money. Not everyone was targeted - but for every theft there was an accompanying e-mails to the relevant local police and media, detailing all the victims criminal actions. In some cases the victims were global corporations and back-doors had been placed in their computer systems allowing the authorities access to find all the evidence of their wrong-doings. Obviously the corrupt politicians were squawking the loudest, the stupid ones anyway, not realising that they were identifying themselves with their actions.

On a side note, another news story about large donations being made to children's charity's throughout the world wasn't been overlooked. It hadn't taken the media long to link the two stories and their speculation, about a modern-day Robin Hood, was frantic. The idea of someone robbing the rich, well the criminal rich anyway, to give to the poor had caught on and now most of the big networks were using the same angle for the stories. Computer experts - from big companies like Apple, Microsoft and IBM - were questioned about how something like this could have possibly happened. They didn't usually agree about anything but all agreed to the fact that no one person could have done this alone. It would have needed a huge crew of computer experts, working for months in secret, to pull something like this off. Even then they would have needed insider knowledge of the technology and software used in computer banking.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, an oblivious Eric Cartman was, sitting at the table, lost in thought. He had come to the conclusion that he would have to build the machines he required - just to make the components for any equipment he might need. Current industrial lasers, for example, didn't have the power or the accuracy he needed. Even surgical lasers were inadequate. He started to mentally make a list of what he would need. It was a long shopping list.

Kenny interrupted Eric's thoughts by entering the kitchen, "Cartman, did you have something to do with all the financial shit that's on TV instead of Terrance and Phillip?"

"Probably," Eric looked up at his friend, "ah hacked into the banking system this morning, by accident."

"Accident huh?" Kenny inferred otherwise.

"Well, once ah stopped panicking and realised what was going on - ah had a look around."

"Go on," Kenny was eager to hear more.

"Ah could identify all the transactions and ah knew which ones were criminal." Eric stopped talking - he was actually a bit embarrassed to admit that he gave money to charity's.

"You took money off a lot of bad people," Kenny pointed out.

By this time the others had picked up on the conversation and had crept over to the kitchen door - to listen in.

"They deserved it," Cartman insisted - sounding only slightly petulant, "ah even left evidence of their crime with the police, FBI and media."

Kenny nodded. What Cartman had done was, perhaps, a bit unethical, naive and stupid - but it was a good deed, sort of.

"Did you donate all the money to charity?" Kenny asked.

"No," Cartman answered, "you have no idea how much crime and corruption there is out there. Ah gave enough money to every children's charity to keep them running for years, they could even expand, but ah barely even made a dent in it."

"Did you put any money in your own account?" Kenny wondered if Cartman had enough sense to cover his own tracks.

"Ah didn't put anything into my account," Cartman began to explain, "instead ah rigged it so that ah automatically get one hundred times as much when ah withdraw from a cash machine."

"So where is all the rest of the money then?" Kyle couldn't help but ask - butting into the conversation.

"Ah created a hidden space inside the banking system. It only appears to exist when ah access it."

Kyle had fully entered the kitchen now, with Stan and Butters trailing behind him, "You do know that the banks keep a back-up of their records. They'll just take all the money back."

"Ah altered them too," Cartman replied, "the ones that were on-line anyways. Ah also set up an invisible program that will override the banks computer software. If they try to restore, with an off-line back-up, the system will act like it's doing what it's supposed to - but in reality the back-up is being permanently overwritten with the new data."

"And you wrote the software for that?" Kyle questioned sarcastically.

"No ah just thought of it and it seemed to write itself," Eric felt the eyes of his friends fixed on him. They were looking at him like he was different. Not the good different he had hoped for but the bad different - like they were slightly scared of him.

"Please," Eric said - opening himself up just a little, "this is a big secret. You won't say anything, will you?"

"What sort of friends do you think we are?" Stan asked. "We might be kids but we know enough to keep our mouths shut about something like this."

"Yeah," Kenny agreed, "you need us."

"What does he need us for?" Kyle's voice dripped sarcasm, "He's a super hero."

"Ah need you to hang-out with me - be my friends," Cartman was quick to explain. "Cover for me when ah need it and be there for me to bounce ideas off. Sometimes ah might need to vent off a little steam - having people ah can talk to about this will really help."

Kenny nodded, "It can be hell - having a secret that you can't tell or that no-one believes."

"Kenneh?" Eric stared at his friend. For a second the blonde boy looked like he was carrying the weight of the world. In the depths of his mind something was bothering him - every time he looked at Kenny he felt like there was something important that he was forgetting. Something to do with the poor boy. His powerful mind started to chip away at the confusion.

"So Cartman," Kyle interrupted Eric's train of thought, "are you gonna show us how you can fly now?"

"Well," Eric answered, "ah can't really fly."

"I knew it," Kyle interrupted to pronounce gleefully.

Eric ignored Kyle and continued, "But ah should be able to, sort of, levitate - using a static electric field generated all over my body at once. It should be able to produce a magnetic effect." Eric could see his four friends' eyes glazing over, "Ah'll just show you eh?"

Cartman stood up from the table and took a couple of steps backwards - giving himself room. He closed his eyes and concentrated - feeling the electricity welling up inside. Before he had directed this power to his hands, forcing it out as ball lightning or sparks, but now he spread it out. Allowing the energy to emit outwards from his whole body. Eyes still closed, he felt his weight shift and ease as he lifted gently into the air. He could actually feel the static field pushing him off the ground.

"Whoa," Stan said as he watched his Fat-ass friend fly unaided for the first time, "that is so cool."

"Dude, I can't believe this," Kyle added - as Cartman gently drifted towards them, "this is out second friend to get super powers." Kyle was clearly remembering their friend Bradley.

"Second," Kenny repeated angrily.

Cartman's eyes snapped open and he stared at his friend. Something in Kenny's tone flicked a switch on in Eric's head. He suddenly started to remember things that had happened, real memories replaced fake ones in a rush.

"Don't get jealous Kenny," Butters said reassuringly, "maybe we will get powers too - and if we don't, we can always be Eric's side-kicks."

Cartman sniggered, "Don't worry you guys, Kenneh's not jealous He's just pissed off that you can't remember him dying all the time."

"You remember?" Kenny asked - stunned.

"Don't be stupid Cartman," Kyle said at the same time.

"No it's true," Cartman insisted. He gradually reduced the field until he was back standing on the ground. "When Kenneh gets reborn, our minds do a reset and we forget he died. Our minds even create a new version of events to fit in with Kenny not dying."

"That doesn't make sense," Kyle complained, "and even if you're right, how come you can remember?"

"Ah didn't used to," Cartman admitted, "maybe my powers allow me to remember - protect my mind from being tampered with, or something."

"I can't believe it, somebody finally remembers and it's Cartman," Kenny wasn't exactly pleased that the Fat-ass was the one who could remember his numerous deaths.

"It's hard to believe that our minds could be altered like that," Stan sounded sceptical.

"Is it any harder to believe than the idea of Cartman having super powers?" Kenny snapped back.

"It must be pretty awful," Butters added, "dying all the time - especially if no-one ever remembers."

The effeminate blonde boy was always quick to believe what he was told. He reached out, like he wanted to pat Kenny on the back, but pulled his hand away - too timid to touch the other boy.

"Well ah remember now," Cartman said.

The friends had talked themselves into a place where they all felt a little uncomfortable. They had lapsed into an uneasy silence and just watched as Cartman rinsed out his glass. After that Eric returned to the front room, with the others following behind. He switched off the TV and sat down.

"If anybody finds out about me, whether it's governments or big company's, they'll kidnap me and try to find out how ah can do all the things that ah do. Even if ah tell them, it won't be enough. They'll perform all sorts of medical experiments on me - maybe even cut me apart to get at the bits inside my head." Cartman spoke quietly but his words reverberated around the room.

"You're being a little over-dramatic Cartman," Kyle said.

"Am ah?" Cartman stared into the eyes of his friend, "When the government needed you and Stan for that Imaginationland gateway thing. Did they ask for yours and your parents permission or did they just swoop in and grab the pair of you?"

Kyle paused to think - was Cartman right?

"But that was an emergency situation," Stan chipped in, "they had to act fast and didn't have time to do things the right way."

"What about when we formed our own Peruvian flute band?" Cartman reminded his friends, "Do you remember how we were rounded up and put into an interment camp? How we were shipped off to Peru - even though we told them that we were US citizens. That's what it's like Kahl - one branch of government, or one agency, doing whatever the hell they want. It's the same in government and in business, because there are so many different departments, the people in charge deny all knowledge of their underlings actions. If they get exposed to the world, some low-level middle-management type gets all the blame and the people really responsible are free to do more of the same."

Cartman had always been skilled at convincing people with his words. Kyle was usually very good at spotting his fat friends bull-shit. To Kyle though, what Cartman had just said didn't sound like bull-shit. It sounded pretty logical and well thought out. Cartman sounded genuinely afraid of what would happen if his secret got out.

"I won't say anything - as long as I'm sure you're not trying to take over the world or something," Kyle said.

"Oh please Kahl - ruling the world would be no fun at all. Ah'd have to spend all my time on trivial paperwork and making royal appearances." Cartman dismissed Kyle's vague threat. He may call him a Jew-rat and day-walker to his face but he knew that Kyle could be trusted to keep his word - especially if it was the right thing to do."

"I promise I won't say anything Eric," Butters was quick to add.

"Not even if your dad shouts at you and threatens to ground you?" Cartman was fully aware of how weak Butters was when it came to standing up to his father.

Butters face paled when his dad was mentioned, "I'll keep your secret," he said again. "Even if I get grounded or punished."

Eric smiled, Butters wouldn't be much use if it came to making up stories to explain his disappearances. Still, he had kept a few of Cartman's secrets over the years.

"You don't even have to ask," Kenny said - moving to bump fists.

Cartman grinned at his best friend - as they bumped fists together, "Ah always knew that you'd have my back."

The eyes in the room turned to Stan. Stan was the one Cartman was most concerned about, actually. The raven had a bad habit of buckling under questioning from his mom or girlfriend.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? You know I won't say anything, right?" Stan asked nervously. He knew as well as everyone else how quickly he would cave in to pressure from Wendy or his mom.

"Ah know that you wouldn't want to say anything Stan," Cartman tried to be diplomatic, "but we all know how you are when it comes to keeping secrets."

Stan blushed - he knew it was true.

"I'll help you out dude," Kyle told Stan. "We can get our heads together and come up with what you can say if your mom or girlfriend start asking you questions."

Stan nodded - grateful for the out, "Thanks dude."

Eric knew that Kyle's solution was the best he could hope for - still there was one more thing to mention. "Kahl ah want you to tell your brother the truth as well."

"OK," Kyle was puzzled, "but why?"

"He's already been asking questions," Kenny answered.

"He's smart enough to work things out by himself," Cartman started to explain.

"I get it," Kyle acknowledged, "if you let him in on the secret, it's one less person trying to find out - who might expose you. Although I don't think that he'd do it deliberately"

"It's also one more person, hopefully, on my side," Cartman added.

Kyle fished his mobile out of his pocket - using its display to check the time, "I've got to go home Cartman, my mom is expecting me."

"That's OK Kahl," Eric replied.

Eric was glad, in a way, that he hadn't been able to speak to the Jewish boy alone - to ask him about the comment he made at school. He'd had very little time to think about it and anyway, what could he really say? Thanks for the compliment? I'm glad you like my ass now? No, it was better to pass the whole thing off, like it had never happened, unless Kyle brought it up. Which Cartman was pretty sure Kyle wouldn't.

"I've got to go as well," Stan told everyone. "The best way to avoid questions is to not act suspiciously in the first place."

"I should go as well," Butters joined in, "if I'm not home soon my dad will ground me."

Cartman and Kenny watched as their three friends left.

After closing the door Eric turned to Kenny and asked, "You're stopping again - right Kenneh?"

"Sure," Kenny answered casually, "at least here I won't have mattress springs poking into my back."

Eric smiled as he lead the way upstairs. 'At least Kenny is treating me like normal,' he thought.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> I feel like I need to apologise for the long wait you might of had for this chapter - sorry, sorry, sorry! It wasn't an easy chapter to write for me - dialogue between two people I find fairly easy but five is so much harder. Keeping track of five individuals, giving them all something to say and keeping them in character - it's not easy. I've had to re-write parts of this three or more times. Even now I keep getting the urge to change things (lol)._

_I tried to create a sense of wonder when I wrote about Cartman, sort of, flying for the first time. I hope it came out in the story._

_I was also planning to write about Cartman's detention with Garrison but decided that it wasn't really needed. There may be a scene in the next chapter or two where Garrison comments about how Eric has done on his make-up test._

_Eric's opinions of government and big corporations is based on his own experiences. He gave a couple of examples of them flouting the law. If you watch the shows you will find many more. As you grow older you do tend to get more cynical about the government and the multinationals._

_Kyman love to all my patient readers, cell12._


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 7**

**Friday - Mad Scientist Part 1**

"So what are you planning to do with all your new-found wealth?" Kenny had asked.

Eric and Kenny had stayed up late the previous night talking about various things. Cartman had shown the poor boy his stash of money and promised to share the wealth. Kenny had quickly agreed to going with his friend to shop for clothes at the weekend. Kenny had also been impressed by Cartman's rise in intelligence - especially after Eric had demonstrated his skills. He'd even joked about how his best friend should help him out with homework in future. Cartman had just shrugged non-committally acting as if he didn't know that Kenny rarely did his homework. The teachers at school knew about Kenny's family background and didn't expect much from him because of it. Cartman had always been, a little, envious of the poor boy's ability to dodge homework assignments. Now, though, he understood the reasons behind it a little better.

They had talked about other things as well - family problems being one of their favourite topics. For two boys their age, having someone to talk to who understood and could relate was hugely important. It allowed them to vent their anger - safe in the knowledge that the other wouldn't get bored or take offence. After they had talked themselves out, they moved onto other topics. Kenny explaining how his personal formula for rating girls hotness worked.

Kenny scored girls out of ten for their boobs, weight, face and ass before multiplying that total by a score for how slutty they dressed and acted. Bonus points were awarded for things like how quickly he could get oral or full sex and also for how cheap a date a girl was. Points were taken away for talking too much, nagging and bitching, having a whiny voice and wanting to do chick things on dates.

Late into the night Cartman had suggested to Kenny that Mysterion coming out of retirement might be a good idea and had offered to fit him out with a series of high-tech gadgets. Kenny had laughed it off, not taking the suggestion seriously, before dropping off to sleep.

* * *

><p>As they walked to the bus-stop, Cartman explained how current technology wasn't good enough and how he would have to build the machines to produce the technology he required.<p>

After listening to Cartman talk about organic circuitry and ceramic-crystal alloys - Kenny finally asked, "Just what are you planning, anyway?"

"No one person can protect the world from alien invasion by themselves," Eric tried to explain, "all the aliens would have to do is attack in more than one place at once."

They arrived at the bus-stop just as Eric finished. Stan and Kyle were already there. It hadn't snowed for a few days and the dirty slush had hardened and re-frozen overnight. Kyle was kicking at a hardened lump with his boots while talking quietly to Stan.

"Hey guys," Kenny said in greeting.

Cartman nodded to his friends - his mind still trying to come up with solutions to the worlds problems. If what he expected was true, planet Earth had a lot worse to deal with than just alien invasions.

"So Cartman," Stan asked, "you're teaching piano again tonight - right?"

Stan had football practice on Friday nights. It was usually a less brutal session with the coach going through any tactical information with the team. teaching them the plays they would be using in their games the next day. Being the quarterback, Stan had a lot to memorise. They then ran the new plays against the defence - using the touch contact rule to avoid injury s.

Cartman looked up - finally noticing that his friends were looking at him, "Sorry," he said, "did you ask me something Stan?"

Stan grinned, "I asked you if you had a piano tutoring session tonight - since we usually walk home together."

"Yeah," Cartman nodded, "it's a beginners class for first, second and third graders. Ah usually have between three and six kids to teach."

"How does that work?" Kyle wondered.

"Well," Eric answered, "it's supposed to be six kids but usually some of them don't show up or are sick."

"No, not that," Kyle corrected himself, "I mean - how do you teach piano to six people at once?"

"Oh right," Eric smiled, "they use keyboards with headphones. Ah go around the class and listen to them one at a time. At the end of the lesson they all get to perform their tune in front of the whole class. It's actually a great motivator."

"So you make it competitive?" Kyle sounded genuinely interested.

"It's more about them encouraging each other and showing off," Cartman explained. "Look, they re all at different levels - some are just starting out, some are still learning basic chords and scales. They all learn at their own speeds. Ah try not to push anyone too hard."

"Cartman, do you really need to keep teaching piano - now that you've got other means of generating an income?" Stan asked.

"Ah need to keep acting as normal as possible Stan," Eric replied. "The more ah change my routine, the more noticeable the other changes," Cartman waved his hand up and down - indicating his body.

"Is Ike using the other stop today?" Kenny interrupted - changing the subject. He had noted that the smaller Canadian wasn't at their stop.

"It was Ike's idea," Kyle answered. "After I told him about Cartman he said we should try not to draw any attention to certain things."

"He accepted that Cartman's got super powers, just like that, without any explanation or anything?" Stan sounded surprised.

"It was number three on Ike's list of possible reasons for Cartman's behaviour," Kyle replied. "Number one was that it wasn't Cartman."

Stan and Kenny both nodded, each of them had considered this option - prior to Cartman's demonstration anyway. Give their encounters with everything from aliens to satanic creatures it wouldn't have been beyond the bounds of possibility. Cartman had even got someone to pretend to be him once before.

"His second possible explanation was drugs," Kyle continued, "it's not that far-fetched - is it?"

Kyle was still feeling slightly ashamed that he had accused Cartman of being on steroids, on Wednesday in front of everyone, in gym class.

"You actually did me a favour the other day Kahl," Cartman said quickly. He had notice the guilty expression of the Jewish boy's face and wanted him to know that everything was kewl. "Thanks to you ah don't have to worry about Coach Johnson trying to get me to play sports for the school."

"Why not?" Stan spoke up immediately - he was really proud to play for the school teams and couldn't understand why Cartman wouldn't feel the same way, "You'd be awesome."

"He'd also be risking his secret in front of thousands of people," Kyle answered.

"It's not that ah wouldn't want to Stan," Cartman tried to explain, "but even if you ignore how unfair it would be to the other teams. Ah'm still learning about my powers and finding new abilities all the time. You have no idea how much ah was slowing myself down during the basketball game."

"Cartman's trying to keep a low profile - remember," Kenny added.

"Anyway," Kyle got in quickly - he wanted to return to the subject to his brother, "Ike wants a full demonstration. Some time this weekend if possible. I didn't think it would be a problem but haven't agreed to anything until I checked with you."

Cartman nodded his head, "Ah guess that will be OK."

They had just about finished talking when the bus pulled up. Cartman and Kenny charged on first - leaving Stan and Kyle to get on together. They intended to sit together but sadly Wendy was waiting. She had saved a seat for Stan and he knew that it was either; sit with her or face her wrath. Stan shrugged at Kyle and took his seat by Wendy - throwing his best friend an apologetic look. Kyle shook his head and walked further down to claim an empty seat.

Kenny was sitting next to Butters, in the second to last row. The two boys were both kneeling on their seats and facing backwards - talking to Cartman, who was in his usual place at the back. Kyle looked around, hoping for a seat that was anywhere but next to Cartman. He wasn't really up for their usual banter this morning.

"Do you have a problem with sitting next to me Kahl?" Cartman asked - putting an innocent expression onto his face.

Kenny and Butters immediately turn around - to sit normally in their seats. There was no way they wanted to get involved in one of Cartman and Kyle's arguments. Butters handed Kenny a second set of ear-buds so they could both listen to his mp3 player.

"Other than the fact that you take up, most of, both the seats and I don't want to be crushed," Kyle snapped instinctively - without thinking.

Immediately Kyle regretted his words as he saw Cartmans face crumple, hurt, before being forced into a scowl.

"Ah'm not fat any more Kahl - as ah'm sure you've noticed," Cartman fired back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle asked as he reluctantly pushed past Cartman's legs to take the rear corner seat - next to the former Fat-ass.

"Ah seem to remember you describing my ass quite differently." Cartman pressed a finger to his lips in a fake puzzled expression, "What was it you called me, under your breath yesterday, ah can't quite remember?"

Kyle blushed scarlet as he recalled what he had said. It was a shock to realise that Cartman had heard him. He had been trying to keep his secret feelings in check and now the worst person he could possibly imagine knew. Cartman knew he was gay.

"Don't worry Kahl," Cartman lowered his voice on seeing the Jewish boy's panicked expression, "we all have secrets."

Kyle swallowed and looked around nervously. Maybe it would be OK, maybe Cartman could act like a decent human being for once.

"Ah still reserve the right to rip on you when it's just the four of us though," Cartman had to add.

Kyle started panicking again. Cartman was planning to out him to Stan and Kenny and probably in the worst way possible.

"Relax Kahl," Cartman patted his friends shoulder reassuringly - before realising what he was doing and wiping his hand off, onto his jeans. "Kenny, probably, already knows and Stan is a hippy who loves everyone - no matter what they are."

Kyle stared at Cartman - was he right about Kenny and Stan? "You think I should tell them?" He asked.

Cartman appeared to consider for a few seconds, "Only if you're comfortable with it yourself. If you're still struggling to accept who you are how can you convince others to accept you?"

Kyle nodded - Cartman was making sense. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Cartman shrugged his shoulders, "As ah said before, we all have secrets. We all have shit to deal with as well."

* * *

><p>Cartman was missing at lunch. At first Kyle assumed that he was giving a piano lesson - until Butters insisted that Eric's only piano lesson of the day was after school. The four friends had hurried through their lunches - Kenny with another sack lunch provided by Cartman. After hurriedly clearing their trays away, they all decided to split up and search the school. Cartman must be somewhere and up to something. It wasn't like any of them had anything better to do.<p>

It was Butters who found Cartman. He had been walking, hurriedly, down a corridor. Pressing his face against the windows, of the classroom doors, and glancing quickly to see if his friend was there. he had passed by the science room, after a quick glance, before something triggered in his mind and he returned for a second look. Although he couldn't see Eric, Butters did see the mass of apparatus spread out over, more than, three workbenches.

Butters tapped gingerly on the door before opening it and poking his head into the room. "Hello," the blonde boy spoke timidly. He was still thinking that it might be a teacher in the room - preparing something for a class.

"Butters is that you," a voice answered.

From behind the apparatus Eric appeared. He was wearing a white science apron and protective goggles over his usual clothes.

"Hey Eric," Butters responded - fully entering the room, "we were all a-wondering where you had gone."

Cartman gestured to Butters - indicating for him to close the door, "Well you found me."

Butters giggled, "I should text the fellas - let them know where we are."

Cartman just nodded and returned his attention to the mass of glass, metal and flames in front of him. He adjusted a few things before turning back to his friend.

"Are they coming here?" Eric asked Butters - watching as the boy read a reply text off his mobile.

"Kyle said that he would round everyone up and meet us here," Butters answered as he tucked his phone away in his jeans.

Cartman nodded, dismissing the interruption for the time being, and returned to monitoring the lab equipment in front of him.

As Butters looked around the room he noticed that the white board was covered with a mixture of chemical and mathematical symbols. He hadn't really taken much note of it at first but it was recognisable as Eric's handwriting. Looking at it for too long made Butters head hurt. For some reason the way Eric stood, hunkered over the lab equipment, reminded Butters of the old black and white Frankenstein horror movies that sometimes ran late at night around Halloween

A few minutes later Kyle arrived with Stan and Kenny in tow. Kyle seemed fine but Kenny and Stan appeared out of breath.

Kyle answered Butters puzzled look by saying that the other two had been searching on the opposite side of the school grounds. It was only then that he saw what Cartman had been up to.

"What's going on," Kyle asked bluntly - taking the lead as Stan and Kenny were still winded.

"Can you guys move away from the door please?" Cartman asked, "Ah don't want anyone, who's passing by, to see us in here."

Kyle felt slightly bristled as Cartman automatically included his friends in his actions. His subtle use of the word, 'us,' indicating that they would all share equal blame and punishment if they were discovered.

"Look, ah'll tell you what ah'm doing - but you've all got to promise to keep the noise down," Cartman spoke in a loud whisper.

The four boys moved away from the door and circled around towards the back of the room. Keeping a healthy distance between themselves and the science experiment Cartman was conducting.

Cartman waited until they had all taken seats at the back of the room before he began pacing excitedly and lecturing.

"Ah went to the bathroom before lunch and ah noticed something interesting," Eric paused to wait for the inevitable, 'what,' response.

It was Kenny who said it, "What was it?" He asked.

"Bacteria," Cartman answered - smiling when he saw his friends faces scrunching up in disgust, "to be precise an uncatalogued cross variety of a flesh-eating bacteria."

"Flesh-eating?" Kyle's voice raised.

Butters grabbed at his crotch area - as if trying to protect himself.

"Don't worry you guys," Cartman tried to reassure, "it's mostly harmless - feeding off dead skin. You'd have to smear it on someone and not let them wash for months on end if you wanted to harm them with it. Actually flesh eating bacteria are quite common - they can be found in almost every rest room and kitchen. This particular hybrid was interesting because of its light refracting properties."

Unsurprisingly, Cartman's reassurances didn't make his friends feel that much better.

"I don't see what's so interesting about a bacteria," Kyle insisted, "or what it has to do with all of that." He gestured towards the apparatus.

"Ah was getting to that Kahl," Cartman replied, "if you'll let me."

Kyle crossed his arms - annoyed at being chastised, by Cartman, but too curious to leave.

"Ah took a sample of the bacteria an rushed it straight here to examine," Cartman continued, "seeing it reminded me of something ah talked about with Kenneh last night."

"Huh," Kenny was puzzled.

"You're creating a weapon that can destroy the world," Kyle suggested - sounding slightly mean.

"Don't be silly Kahl," Cartman dismissed the insult, "the easiest way to destroy human life would be to set off a series of explosions at Yellowstone National Park. If done right you could trigger a super-massive volcano that would fill the atmosphere with minute debris particles for years - causing a mini ice age."

Kyle closed his mouth.

"I saw something like that on a cartoon," Butters whispered to Kenny.

"Now if you just wanted to destroy the US - the easiest way would be to attack the Eastern and Western seaboard's simultaneously. A few, well placed, explosions could trigger the fault lines on the west coast and it would be fairly easy to trigger a man-made mega-tsunami to attack the east coast."

"Dude," Stan said - staring shell-shocked at Cartman.

"What," Cartman asked before realising, "well Kahl asked."

Kenny grinned at his friend, "So what did you want the bacteria for Cartman?"

Eric nodded and returned to his explanation, "Ah figured that ah could mutate the bacteria and change some of its properties."

"Are you sure that you're not creating a biological weapon?" Butters asked timidly.

"No Butters," Cartman sighed, "watch."

They all watched as Cartman dipped his finger into a large glass beaker which seemed to be placed at the end of the production line. He stirred the gloopy grey liquid, with his finger, for a few seconds - before pulling out and wiping the finger on his jeans.

"Would ah do that if it wasn't safe?" Eric asked his friends - hoping to dispel any doubt in their minds.

"What exactly are you making Cartman?" Kyle asked insistently.

"Ah've altered the bacteria so that it can no longer eat living flesh - only dead skin and mineral salts," Eric explained. "It's designed to bond with organic fabrics, such as silk."

"Is there a point to this," Kyle questioned - checking the time on his mobile.

"Since you asked so nicely Kahl, ah'll tell you," Cartman answered sarcastically. "Any clothing made with this fabric will have certain special abilities. It will reduce and defuse the attack of blunt objects - spreading the impact out over a larger area and causing less damage. Attacks from sharper objects, like knives, or high speed objects, like bullets, would also have a lessened impact. A bullet for example wouldn't pierce the fabric but would instead only leave a bruise the size if a fist."

"Wow, that's amazing Eric," Butters jumped up excitedly.

"So it works like Kevlar then?" Kyle was, reluctantly, starting to get interested.

"It's gonna be way better than Kevlar Kahl," Cartman said instantly. "Kevlar is heavy and bulky and inflexible. It can't cover the whole body like my new fabric can. Also the new fabric will defuse light - allowing the wearer to hide in the shadows. It also thermally regulates itself - keeping you warm in cold weather and cool in summer."

"So are there any drawbacks to this wonder fabric then?" Stan asked.

"Well," Eric looked slightly embarrassed, "for one thing the clothing has to be skin-tight for it to work."

Kenny had suddenly realised just what Cartman was planning - he scowled, "You're wanting me to run around in a silk body-stocking, covered in that goop, playing Mysterion again - aren't you?"

Eric felt slightly ashamed - in his enthusiasm he hadn't even stopped to ask Kenny if he wanted this. He had just grabbed at the chance to not be alone. To not have the fate of the human race resting solely on his shoulders. "Ah'm sorry Kenneh," he mumbled - looking down at his feet.

Kenny sighed, he wasn't really angry with Cartman, "So what other equipment were you planning to make for me?"

Eric looked up - excitedly, "Ah have some ideas for making you a utility belt, like Batman has but way kewler, full of all sorts of gadgets. Ah've also designed a hood and cloak that can be turned inside-out and becomes your parker."

Cartman stopped talking while he checked the instruments and turned off the Bunsen burners around the lab equipment. "We just have to leave it to filter through now," he explained.

"Are you planning to leave it like this?" Stan asked - eyeing up the mass of glass nervously.

"No-one uses this classroom on Friday afternoons Stan," Cartman pointed out. "If anyone sees this, hopefully, they'll just think that the science teacher set it up for a demonstration on Monday." Cartman started wiping the white board clean.

"Are you going to leave this here all weekend?" Kyle asked.

Cartman shook his head, "All the new bacteria will be filtered through by the end of class today," he looked expectantly at Kyle, Kenny and Butters.

"You want us to pack it all up!" Kyle wasn't, exactly, happy with the idea.

"Well," Cartman softened his voice to persuade, "ah have a piano lesson to teach and Stan has football."

Stan gave Kyle an apologetic glance.

Kyle looked across at Kenny and Butters - who seemed to be agreeing, "Fine," he reluctantly answered.

"OK," Eric smiled. "Now remember - all the equipment needs to be thoroughly washed before you put it away." He handed Kyle a pair of sandwich bags - that he had brought from home, "Pour the bacteria into these and double-knot them. You can put them into your empty lunch box or something."

Kyle's face blanched slightly - he quickly handed the bags over to Butters, "You can do that. My mom checks my lunch box, straight away, when I get home."

Butters took the bags, reluctantly from Kyle, "Are you sure it's safe Eric?"

Kenny grabbed the bags before Cartman had the chance to say anything, "I'll do it," he said, "I'll need your lunch box to put them in though."

Butters nodded and smiled, releaved.

Cartman had taken off the goggles and apron - returning them to their proper places, "Lets get out of here and head to class," he said - just as the bell went.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> I really wanted to get this chapter posted in time for Halloween - sadly I'm a few days late._

_Does anyone know the identity of the cartoon Butters refers to in this chapter. A mention in next chapters authors notes for the first person who reviews with the right answer._

_Batman is owned by DC Comics._

_Kyman love to all my readers, cell12._


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

I also don't own My Little Pony or Hello Kitty - which are mentioned in this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Super Hero<strong>

**by cell12**

**Chapter 8**

**Friday - Mad Scientist Part 2**

Things, pretty much, went as Cartman predicted - when Kyle, Kenny and Butters returned to the science room. Everything was how they'd left it at the end of lunch period. Anyone seeing the apparatus, all set up, would have assumed that it was done by the science teacher. If anyone came across the three boys, cleaning everything up and putting it away, they would naturally think that it was some sort of punishment. It wasn't as if anybody would want to ask Miss Vetch - the science teacher was not well liked by either pupils or staff.

Stan, on the other hand, was having a far less comfortable time. He had finished practice slightly early and was waiting at the side entrance for his friends. He was surprised instead to be greeted by Wendy - accompanied by Bebe and Red, two of the other girls in their grade.

"Hi Stan," Wendy said - leaning into her boyfriend and kissing his cheek, "did football finish early?"

Stan nodded, "Yeah, the coach had a dentists appointment or something."

Wendy nodded - not really listening to Stan's answer, "Have you got anything planned for us this weekend?"

Stan silently groaned. It was always on him, as the guy, to plan all their dates. Usually he would suggest something and Wendy would reject the idea out of hand. Then he'd try something else - sometimes it went on for ages. Why couldn't Wendy just tell him what she wanted to do? He'd asked her that exact question once, only to get the ridiculous explanation that a man had to suggest all the dates - if she just told him where they were going it would make her sound like a controlling bitch. Stan, honestly, couldn't see the difference. It was even worse if he had to tell her that he already had something planned with his friends - Wendy wasn't exactly the calmest person when her plans were thwarted.

Stan realised that Wendy was still waiting for an answer. He tried to think of something quickly, "I don't have a lot of money right now - so maybe we could have a movie night at your house?" It would have to be at Wendy's house - Stan's dad and sister would, between them, find a way to ruin any date he had at his own home.

Wendy appeared to consider for a few seconds. It wasn't a bad idea and it would be a chance for some alone time in private - a change from their usual dates. She was snapped out of her musings by a hard nudging elbow from Bebe - followed closely by an unsubtle cough from Red.

"That's a nice idea and we should definitely do that sometime," Wendy answered, "but the girls and I were talking and one of the suggested that we try double dating."

Stan looked confused for a second before replying, "I'm cool with that but none of my friends have a girlfriend right now," he paused briefly before continuing, "unless you count Kenny - but he's never with anyone longer than a couple of weeks."

Wendy pulled a face at the thought of anyone ever wanting to date Kenny. All he cared about was easy sex!

Stan paused to consider, "Do any of your friends have a boyfriend right now?"

"Well Heidi is dating Ryan, he's a freshman in high-school, but that wasn't what I was meaning." Wendy leaned into Stan - placing her hands flat against his chest and looking up at him with wide eyes.

Stan knew that look, it always spelled trouble for him. It was the look Wendy gave him when she wanted something and, usually, it was something Stan wouldn't like.

"Your friends Kyle and Cartman haven't shown much interest in asking girls out," Wendy added - giving Stan a massive hint.

"Cartman asks girls out," Stan answered, "it's not his fault that he always gets turned down."

"But he's hot now," Red added in an over-enthusiastic voice, "maybe he should try again."

"Maybe," Stan wasn't sure if this was the best time, given everything that was going on, but there was no way he could actually say that. He personally thought it was pretty shallow for a girl to want to date a newly thin and muscular Cartman when she'd shown no interest in him before. It wasn't as if the Fat-ass had undergone a personality bypass - he was still the same offensive loud-mouth inside.

"Kyle hasn't shown any interest in girls since he dated that slut Rebecca Cotswolds back in fourth grade," Wendy pointed out. "Is it possible that she scared him off dating?"

Stan nodded, "I suppose," he paused to consider, "maybe they just aren't as mature as we are. Whenever I bring it up with Kyle he always says that he isn't ready to start dating yet."

"He told me the same thing," Bebe chipped in - not adding that it was when she'd asked him out last month.

"It's not that big a deal," Stan tried to defend his friend, "we're only in middle school. He has plenty of time to catch up."

Wendy patted Stan's arm reassuringly, "Kyle takes things too seriously. At our age dates are supposed to be fun - not a lifetime commitment."

"Maybe if Kyle went out on a date he would see how fun it can be," Bebe suggested slyly.

"Maybe," Stan replied nervously. He wasn't stupid, he'd figured out that this was a planned ambush.

"There's less pressure if you date as a group," Red added.

"Well that's settled then," Wendy straightened up - pushing herself off Stan, "you'll ask Kyle and Cartman if they want to go out on a group date with us this Saturday."

Stan could feel his back, pressed hard, against the outside wall of the school. Right then, he wished he could pass through it like a ghost or a superhero.

"What if they say no?" Stan finally asked.

Wendy turned back to Stan and glared at him, "I'm sure that you can be persuasive - when you want to be."

Stan sighed, exasperated, as he watched the girls leave. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it - having a girlfriend. Did Wendy even care about him, the way he did for her? If she did he never saw it. She was usually too busy playing controlling mind-games on him or using her relationship to lord it over the other girls. Stan knew that he deserved to be treated better than this. Wendy always acted like he was hers to boss around and Stan was getting sick of it.

Was Kyle right? Were they all too young to be in a serious relationship? Maybe Kenny had the right idea, dating girls for fun and never for more than a few weeks, he seemed happy enough. The only ones who made a big deal about being in a relationship were the girls. Was being with Stan just a status thing for Wendy? She certainly made use of her couple status to score points in arguments with other girls. When the girls were choosing a theme for a school valentines dance she would coldly dismiss other peoples ideas with the words, "How would you know what's romantic - you don't even have a boyfriend." If they did happen to have a boyfriend she would belittle the girl by comparing the length of their relationships.

Stan shook his head, right now his main problem was working out a way to explain things to Kyle and Cartman. He was pretty sure that neither of his friends would be pleased. Stan almost hear them - Cartman teasing him for being pussy-whipped and Kyle pointing out all the reasons why he didn't want a girlfriend. Whether they agreed to the date or not, one way or the other, Stan was screwed. If they said no, Wendy would give him hell. If he managed to persuade them both to say yes, he would owe them both - big time. Stan scrunched his eyes up, pinching the bridge of his nose, he was starting to get a headache.

Kyle, Butters and Kenny joined Stan a few minutes after the girls had left. Stan debated whether or not to tell Kyle right away - before deciding it would be easier to tell him and Cartman together. At least that way he would only have to explain it once. Stan shook his head and tried to catch what Butters had been talking about.

* * *

><p>Eric Cartman was grinning as he came out of his music class. His decision, to show video clips of current pop stars playing the piano, had really helped to motivate and enthuse the young kids who made up his beginners class. He suspected that most of them were only in the after school class because of their parents. Unless it was an electric guitar, learning to play a musical instrument wasn't seen as being kewl.<p>

Since he hadn't heard anything, Cartman assumed that everything had gone OK with Kyle, Kenny and Butters. If they had been caught by a teacher Kyle would, certainly, have dragged him into any resultant trouble.

Eric hurried down the corridor and past the custodian who was mopping the hallway. He nodded politely before walking down the stairs and out of the entrance to meet his friends - who were all gathered, waiting for him.

"Hey guys," Cartman greeted as he approached.

"Hey Eric," Butters responded.

"Cartman," Kyle said bruskly - still slightly pissed about having to do clean-up in the lab.

Stan nodded his acknowledgement and Kenny grinned behind his hoody while holding up a pink, My Little Pony lunch-box

Cartman smiled and slid his backpack off the single shoulder he was carrying it by - opening it so that Kenny could place the lunch-box inside.

"Ah'll get it back to you before Monday," Cartman said - seeing Butters nervous expression.

"It's my second favourite," Butters replied - as if that explained his attachment to an object marketed squarely towards elementary school girls.

"I'm surprised it's not a Hello Kitty one," Kyle muttered under his breath.

"Oh no Kyle," Butters answered indignantly, "my Hello Kitty lunch-box is a collectable - I'd never use it."

Cartman had to bite his tongue to prevent himself saying anything. He looked across at the others, who seemed to be equally struggling - except Kenny, of course, who was openly laughing into the neck of his hoody.

Stan recovered first, "Let's get out of here guys," he suggested.

The five boys began the long walk home from school. They were used to the cold, snow and slippery ice. They had been dealing with it their whole lives, it didn't bother them and barely slowed them down. None of them were in a talkative mood - each of them had things on their mind to worry about. Butters the safety of his lunch-box Stan was wondering how to approach Kyle and Cartman about going on a triple date. Kenny was thinking about what it would be like to become Mysterion again - did he really want that? Kyle was trying to think of a way to tell his friends that he was gay. Of all of them Cartman was the most at ease. He was working out the details of his plans to protect the Earth from alien invasion.

It was Cartman who noticed the sullen silence amongst his friends first. He nudged Kenny to get his attention, "Remember, you're going shopping with me tomorrow morning. So be at my house early."

Kenny nodded and continued walking.

Eric tried Stan next.

"So Stan," the former Fat-ass asked, "have you anything good planned for this weekend?"

Stan paled and looked away - before answering, "Not really," in an guilty voice.

Cartman shrugged before trying again, "Maybe you could come to the mall with me and Kenneh? We could all go," Eric opened up the invite to include Butters and Kyle, "it would give us a chance to hang out."

Stan turned back - a plan brewing in his head, "We could make a day of it. Maybe catch a movie?"

"Sure, why not," Eric replied - glad that Stan was finally paying an interest. "Are you in Kahl?"

"I have family stuff first thing but I could meet you all afterwards," the Jewish boy answered, "my parents could drop me off at the mall around 10am."

"That's kewl," Cartman flashed a quick smile. "How about you Butters?"

"I don't know," Butters responded nervously, "my dad might have plans to ground me again."

"Don't worry Butters," Cartman told the blonde boy, "me and Kenneh will pick you up in the morning. Ah'm sure, if ah ask nicely, your parents will let you come."

Butters nodded, he knew how persuasive Eric could be.

* * *

><p>Later that day an interesting phone conversation took place between Stan and Wendy. After initial greetings were exchanged Stan explained the plan to his girlfriend.<p>

"Me and the guys are spending the day at the mall tomorrow. I thought that you and your friends could join us for lunch and then a movie."

"So you got them both to agree?" Wendy asked down the phone-line

"Well," Stan trailed off - not eager to tell his girlfriend the truth.

"You didn't say anything did you?" Wendy snapped, "And you weren't even planning to tell me so I could prepare the girls."

"I'm sorry," Stan apologised quickly - sometimes it seemed like he could never do anything right for her, "it's hard to say stuff like that if you're a guy. We talk about sports and video games - not feelings and junk."

There was a pause where Stan could hear Wendy sigh, "No it's all right Stan," she sounded calmer. Stan suspected that she was starting to plan a new strategy. "We can meet up by accident - at least this way Kyle and Cartman won't be able to say no."

Stan sighed and relaxed. He could leave all the details to Wendy - she and her friends would make the meet-up seem like a complete accident. Then he remembered who else would be there.

"Wendy," Stan spoke the name loudly to grab his girlfriend's attention, "Kenny and Butters will be there as well. Will you be able to get dates for them?"

There was more silence over the phone as Wendy thought about the problem.

"Well I should be able to find someone for Kenny," Wendy finally answered. "He's a bit of a dog but there are a some girls who will put up with his behaviour because he's cute. Butters will be a lot more difficult."

"Why?" Stan asked, "He's a nice guy - polite and respectful."

"He's also more girly than any girl in school," Wendy added.

"That doesn't mean anything Wendy," Stan defended. "He liked that girl who worked at Raisins - remember?"

"Look, I'll see what I can do," Wendy replied. "Maybe if I ask Bebe and Red - they might be able to suggest someone. I won't guarantee that she'll be anything other than plain and desperate though."

"Thanks Wendy - I know you'll work something out," Stan still felt guilty though for setting this up without his friends knowledge. Although Wendy's assessment of Butters prospects was quite insulting, Stan let it pass. He was just releaved that he'd been able to manoeuvre through this particular minefield in-tact.

"I'll see you tomorrow Stan."

"Yeah, goodbye Wen," Stan stopped talking because he could hear the dial tone. He turned back to his computer to start the homework that he had been set. Hopefully it would take his mind off Saturday.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Authors Notes:<strong> I know that this is over a month late, rather short and a bit crappy. I'm sorry! I've really been struggling with this section of the story. I have lots of notes and ideas for the kewl action stuff in the later chapters but this middle section was a bit scattered and empty so I thought I'd add something to spice it up. After over a month of brainstorming and re-writes this was the best idea I could come up with. Don't worry, I'm not turning the story into a comedy romance - I just want to expand things slightly._

_On a positive note I've had to revise my estimated number of chapters up again (lol)._

_Kyman love to all my readers and watchers, favers and especially reviewers - cell12._


End file.
